


New Form Same Heart

by AStitchofLuck



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Also a good handful of, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Snotlout Jorgenson, Don't Judge Me, Dragonese (How to Train Your Dragon), Dragonspeak, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Human Hookfang, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, M/M, Magic, Multi, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Post-How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Snotfang, Spitelout Jorgenson Being an Asshole, Spitelout Jorgenson’s A+ parenting, Valka is a mother to all, a little bit of, because I ship them both, mentions of abuse, protective Hookfang, yay i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24229981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStitchofLuck/pseuds/AStitchofLuck
Summary: It’s been two years since the dragons departed from Berk, yet Snotlout and Hookfang are still adjusting to the new changes in their lives. But when the elder dragon reveals she can give the monstrous nightmare a chance to see his rider once more, he is more than willing to take it. Even if it means his rider won’t recognize him. Meanwhile, a new threat nears Berk, and it’s people are faced with a magical conflict unlike anything they had seen before.Human!Hookfang Post!HTTYD3
Relationships: Eret/Snotlout Jorgenson, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson, Hookfang & Snotlout Jorgenson, Hookfang/Snotlout Jorgenson, Light Fury/Toothless (How to Train Your Dragon)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 32





	1. Confessions of Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! So this is my first HTTYD fic, and I’m super excited to see how it turns out. I don’t know why, but I just really like this pairing. I guess it's just because I love Hookfang and Snotlout’s relationship in the movie and series. They’re such a great and hilarious duo, and I couldn’t find as many fics of them as I liked, especially from a perspective like this. So, I decided to write my own and build off from a random idea that popped into my head as I was watching too much RTTE. 
> 
> I’ve already written a good chunk of chapters, but I don’t want to dump all of them yet because they were in desperate need of some tweaking. I also want don’t want this to end up like some of my other unfinished projects, so I’m probably going to wait until I have more of the story arc written before publishing more so you guys are not just left with an incomplete story. Please have patience, sorry. I really want to go be able to have the whole thing written, and I’m so excited to share it with you all! Constructive criticism is also always welcome.
> 
> So, without further ranting, here we go! Enjoy! :D

In the far west side of the archipelago lies the towering island of New Berk. The formation of rock, grass, and and trees and bushes of many types emerged from its sea prison very long ago, yet has only glimpsed at human civilization for a few years. Just like its our old home, it snows nine months of the year and hails the other three. Not that the island or its people mind, of course.

Two years ago, a great migration took place as we Berkians departed from our old home in hopes of finding the legendary Hidden World, a protected and safe place for both dragon and dragon rider. Things didn’t quite happen as we had planned, though. 

Instead, a battle took place, one between dragon riders and dragon hunter, and out of the smoke and ashes, a new realization emerged. As long as humans fought and battled, there would be no safe place for dragons. So they left New Berk and followed their king and new queen to the Hidden World, a place only meant to be found and seen through the eyes of a dragon. 

But that’s not to say they will be gone forever. One day, when people are truly ready and getting along , the dragons will return…

* * *

“...and once more they will roam across the archipelago.”

Hiccup’s eyes seemed to glow from the amber light of the small campfire. The three young children opposite of him stated in amazement from the story. Though they were too young to remember when dragons lived with Berkians, their expressions always seemed to light up in a small sense of nostalgia as their chief retold stories of Berk. The three pairs of parents behind them, however, frowned slightly from memory of their dragons those few years ago.

A small yawn escaped from the chief’s lips. He stood up from the small log he had rested upon. “I think that’s enough storytelling for one night, though. I need to go check on the chieftess and you three have bedtime.”

Small wines of protests emerged from the trio of children, but began to die down as Hiccup promised another story the next night. The parents said their thanks for entertaining the little ones before bed and soon the small crowd moved back into their respective houses nearby. 

Hiccup smiled. It had begun a nightly tradition of sorts to tell the children of New Berk stories of his past adventures before they slept. At first it became a somber time, of course, as his first few weeks of life without his night fury friend had passed by, but as it went on, he found his memories of Toothless lived stronger and less grief-stricken as he told of his past joys to others. In a way, it was quite therapeutic for the former dragon rider. 

There was a soft clink of metal against the gravel path as Hiccup made his way to up to his own home. Life in New Berk has had its rough beginnings as its people began to transition to their new lifestyles without dragons, but they luckily managed to adjust at a moderate pace. New ships were soon built for traveling, and the Berkians soon discovered a few friendly tribes across the scattered array of islands. Many of them proved as helpful allies during any hardships either side faced. A steady flow of merchants also began to fit New Berk into their usual routes, giving the newly reformed tribe fresh supplies and other useful trinkets. 

A few more paces and Hiccup finally made it to the wooden door of the humble home. It was built similar to the other residences, mainly because he found no reason to drastically different from the others despite his status as chief. His hand wrapped around the iron handle, and he entered.

Inside, a fire was already drawn, and the whole common room was filled with a subtle warmth. Hiccup let out a small breath of admiration as he saw his beautiful wife and baby daughter snuggled in a nearby chair. He stepped towards them and took a seat adjacent to them. 

“You’re here later than usual,” Astrid teased and leaned into the loving kiss her husband offered. A small smile graced her lips as they parted.

“Yeah, sorry,” the chieftain replied. “They wanted two stories instead of the usual one.” He had begun the evening telling tales of first finding the dragon eye with the other dragon riders in their late teenage years until one of the trio asked why the dragons had left Berk in the first place. Unlike the first few times telling the tale, Hiccup's usual seldom tone of the particular story was broken as he saw the looks of wonder that emitted from the children. 

Astrid hummed, rocking the sleeping child in her arms softly. “Well, you missed Zephyr’s little tantrum earlier. She finally calmed down a few minutes ago.” She smiled as the souls of gentle breathing of the child. 

The chieftess shifted the baby in her arms for Hiccup to hold. Careful not to wake her, he held her close to his chest. “I’ve never would’ve thought I would have a wife as beautiful as you all those years ago back when I was just Gobber’s apprentice” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Astrid snored. “But, honestly, if someone told me when we were that young that we’d be married a little under a decade later, I definitely wouldn’t have believed it.” That earned a light chuckle from the pair. “But things change,” she continued, “most of the time for the better, like us, and other times just the opposite like…” She trailed off, frowning.

“...Snotlout...” Hiccup finished, sighing. “How has been, though. I’ve been so busy planning the meeting with the neighboring islands in a few days it feels like he’s just disappeared.” Snotlout, much like many of the others with close bonds to their dragons, had been in a period of grief shortly after the Departure, as Hiccup had come to call it. In the shorter Viking’s case however, he had never seen to move on and begun to grow more distant in the later few years.

“He’s been okay, from what I’ve seen,” Astrid explained as a small frown traced her face. “But he still really misses Hookfang.” Snotlout and his monstrous nightmare had always had a sting bond with one another, just like all the original dragon riders had been to their dragons. However, as the rest slowly began to accept their departure and eventually move on, Snotlout had never seemed to catch up to the others. 

“Hopefully, He’ll feel better soon...” Hiccup reassured, mostly to himself. “He’s Snotlout, the toughest of the gang, right?” His attempted humor fell dry though against his tongue. His transition to life without Toothless was smoother than he had expected it to be, though he felt like telling stories to the small group of Berkians children every night was a great help in moving on and continuing to lead his people.

“He should be the one we invite first for the trip next moon cycle,” Astrid offered. “Maybe a chance of seeing Hookfang one last time will cheer him up.” The two had been planning for a few months now of voyaging back to the Hidden World—or at least the entrance since humans were not allowed to enter—in hopes of seeing their dragons one more time. It had been kept tight between the chieftain and chieftess only, since they didn’t want to draw any attention to the supposedly mythical origin of dragons, but they agreed that they would tell only the original dragon riders of their plans. 

“Yeah you’re right! I’ll tell him sometime after the meeting with the neighboring tribe leader,” Hiccup agreed.

Astrid nodded. “You better not forget, though, with all the work you’ve been doing,” she teased with a playful smirk and a light punch to her love’s shoulder. 

“Who, me? Forget? It’ll be the first thing I’ll do afterwards. Promise.”

* * *

In the colorful formation of caves and caverns, a monstrous nightmare sat alone among a sea of various dragons. He stared above the luminous formation, where a few pairs of other nightmares and their mates rested peacefully on a fairly large terrace, and sighed.

Hookfang hadn’t adjusted as well to the hidden Dragon Realm as he wished. It was everything he could have ever wished for and more. There was an endless supply of food, other dragons to socialize with, and protection from those who hunted dragons. Yet, there was one thing dear to Hookfang that was missing. 

“You still miss them, don’t you.” His thoughts were broken by the gently growling dragonspeak of the night fury.

“Only one in particular,” he retorted. It would only be so long when the king found the hidden spot where he secretly moped for his human. He turned his gaze from the pairs of sleeping dragons and looked towards Toothless. 

“There isn’t a day goes by where I miss Hiccup,” the night fury explained. There was a tinge of grief in his tone, “but eventually he have to move on and continue for the other’s sake.”

“Easier for you, ‘king of Dragons.’ You have a whole kingdom to keep your mind from straying back to…”Hookfang trailed off. Toothless and Light had ruled the hidden realm for the past few years with a kind and humble stance for their subjects. Only few dragons were stupid enough to protested the peace the pair brought with them, but Hookfang secretly missed the exciting and usually dangerous adventures he found himself in with his rider. 

Toothless looked to terrace the other dragon had been gazing upon. “Maybe you too should find a mate, like many of us have.” He nodded towards the pairs in the nearby terrance. 

The suggestion caused something sour to rub through Hookfang’s stomach. Perhaps there was something wrong with him, but he never felt the attraction he should towards any of the female monstrous nightmares, causing the male to believe that maybe he simply wasn’t meant for a mate. A ridiculous thought sure, but the more he had run it though his mind, the more it made sense to the dragon. Unlike himself, many of the other dragons had soon found love within the cave walls. Toothless had fledglings on the way. Stormfly found a healthy and caring male nadder. Meatlug found a step-father to help raise her small child. Hel, even Barf and Belch found another zippleback to indulge in their stupid shenanigans with. With this, Hookfang began to keep his distance from the others. He was probably the only one who felt alone in the realm of dragons. 

Hookfang shook his head. “I don’t think I can,” he stated simply and hopefully without revealing the inner turmoil in himself. Who needed a mate anyway? He’s lasted well enough without one even before the first flight he shared with his human...even when he ended up on death row in the cell of the old dragon arena...and he could last the rest of his lifetime like he had before Snotlout. 

Toothless only nodded, clearly seeing the trouble that grow beneath the eyes of his friend. The night fury let out a small breath of air...but then a sudden thought ran in through his head. “Let me show you something,” he spoke quietly as he began to walk away. “Follow me.” 

Hookfang soon followed, and with a burst of wings, the two glided over the two flew over the radiant formations of the enormous caverns. Despite his distance from the other dragons, he did admit that the scenery was beyond eye catching. In the distance, the brightest part of the dragon’s realm toward tall and illuminated as if the sun just flew overhead. A distance behind their path, the darker parts of the cavern stood with a colorful array that emitted from it.

Eventually, Toothless led the other to a smaller cave that annexed the main area. Hookfang had never noticed the smaller area in the few years he lived below ground. It was a moderate size to move through, even for a larger dragon, and as they flew deeper into the cave, he noticed the glowing colors that lined the walls in various shapes, lighting the way for the two dragons. “Are those...drawings?” Hookfang was surprised, to say the least. Despite Toothless moderate talent for such art, he had never seen such intricate work, even from his experiences with human art. 

Toothless looked back at him and grinned. “This is the Hall of History,” he explained as he continued to glide through deeper into the cave. “All of dragon history is recorded here, from past rulers and warriors to even those who were banished from our underground sanctuary long ago.” His voice was more crestfallen at the last part. 

Just like the nightfury, Hookfang had heard of the stories of those long ago who wished to start wars below ground. When word had gotten around those decades ago, the king at the time had banished them from the safety of the realm, out in the open of the dangers of humans. The leader of those, the king's own mate, had been the dragon the vikings called the “Red Death,” who dragons referred to the “Dark Queen.” She had furiously left with a smaller array of followers. Neither he nor Toothless had known of the deadly dragon’s origins until they lived in the hidden realm, but now that they knew, they were glad she had been defeated nearly a decade ago. There was an illuminating, blood red painting of the Dark Queen and her followers emerging from the sea at the opening to the realm. Next to her, smaller yet strikingly similar dragons followed just behind...

“This way,” Toothless interrupted Hookfangs thoughts and landed on the soft ground. There was a light layer of what looked to be grass that glowed a bright teal color. The monstrous nightmare landed beside him. 

Up ahead, a large clearing opened in from the cave. Inside the cozy space, a small gang of weeping willow trees lined a small stream that flowed across the room, both the branches and water also glowing brightly as if covered in the glowing algae in which a frightmare might fed on. A further distance, laid a small, pataled tree, and each of its blossoms lit up the room with its soft pinkish glow. In this tree, small white and fuzzy looking fruit lined its branches. 

Hookfang followed the night fury to a small, circular stonehenge of rock stood in the clearing, laying above one of the taller stacked rocks was a dragon unlike any he had ever seen. “This is the Enchantwing, and she is the eldest of dragons in the realm.” Toothless told the other.

She looked quite similar to Toothless and Light. Maybe a distant relative to the night fury species, Hookfang guessed. What likely once were shiny and teal silver scales, were now a dullish blue grey from old age. Despite her elderly age though, she didn’t look frail or weak to say the least. She stood up from her rock, and with her two sets of wings, she soared down and landed opposite of the night fury. “My king,” she spoke in a soft voice and bowed her head. 

Toothless gave a smaller bow of respect in return. “Enchantwing, I’ve come with my friend show him our plans.” 

“Plans?” Hookfang inquired. “Plans for what?” 

The Enchantwing looked to Toothless with a look that asked for some sort of permission. The king of dragons gave a nod to the elder, and she looked to Hookfang. “Are you familiar with magic, flame-scales?” 

Hookfang had only heard of dragon magic in stories of legend, but never quite believed it still existed in the world. Stories say that the very first dragons were creatures of magic, but as generations grew old and faded, many began to be hunted by humans for their special abilities. Many of the more magical species were soon hunted to extinction, and over time the art faded from history.

From what the monstrous nightmare could tell, there was a possibility a similar series of events might have also taken place with humans, for he had also heard stories from the vikings of magical humans who were burned to death because of their power..However, the closest to magic Hookfang had truly seen were the intricate inventions that the young viking chief had created overtime. 

“I take it you do then,” the Enchanting took note of the other dragons expression. 

“The practice was lost centuries ago, though,” Hookfang thought aloud.

“Or so we thought.” Toothless replied excitedly. “I’ve been planning with the Enchantwing so we would be able to see the the riders once more.”

“You’ve..what?” The other dragon froze from shock and dumbfoundment, yet a tinge of hope leaped inside him. A change to see the riders once more, _his_ rider once more. “But how?”

“A fairly complex, yet possible, spell,” the Enchantwing began to explain. “We've only just gathered the final ingredients a while ago.” She moved to the center of the circular stone structure where a spherical crystal laid surrounded by various objects and herbs that seemed to be engulfed by flammable oils. “Shall we try it in front of your friend, my king?” 

Toothless nodded in approval and the Enchantwing gracefully pulled her wings to hover gently in the air. There was a soft, crackling sound that erupted from her teeth, and a handful of sparks fell to the ground. Flames traveled around the milky-colored crystal and engulfed the oil. She landed, then, and grumbled an ancient language the other dragons could not understand under her breath, and suddenly the crystal orb spun to life in a rainbow of color. 

“It is finished,” the Enchantwing said gloriously and stepped back for the others to see. “Tell who your heart desires to see, and it will provide.” 

The night fury was first to step forward. Hesitantly, he spoke. “Show me Hiccup.”

The colors of the orb swirled and mixed until the smiling face of the viking shined through. The light was warm, and he sat next to a fireplace with his wife, and the night fury’s eyes noticed a small bundle in his arms. “He has a fledgling now.” Toothless grinned, was relieved to see the joy on his former rider’s face. Despite his undying confidence in the Viking, the dragon had always feared the worst that could happen now that he wasn’t there to protect him, but seeing Hiccup safe and surrounded by his growing family, all fears instantly ebbed from him. 

“So he has,” the Enchantwing replied softly. There was enthusiasm in her voice, just like the night fury. Despite the majority of the relm’s distrust in humans, the elder dragon had seen too much to fear them. Of course, she had seen the evil they could commit with desires as dark and twisted as the Dark Queen’s, even worse in some cases. Yet, she has also seen the kindness and purity that some had shown her in her younger years, and if it wasn’t for that kindness, it was very likely that she wouldn’t be standing before the new king of dragons as she did. 

“Hookfang, you try.” The night fury gleamed. “Who knows how your human is doing.” 

With the words of encouragement from the other, Hookfang moved up to stand next to him. There was a strange feeling in his chest as he looked to the orb, and he couldn’t tell whether it was excitement or anxiety. After a brief pause, he spoke carefully to the crystal. “Show me Snotlout.” 

The image of the chieftain morphed and shifted over itself. Out of the previous chestnut hair and gleeful emeralds eyes stood a much opposite image. The viking sat next to a fire that flamed a little smaller than the other man’s in what looked to be his small wooden home. He sat cross-legged on the splintering floor with a thin woolen blanket draped around his shoulders. He shivered lightly as a small breeze from outside somehow made it into the home, clutching the blanket closer to his skin. An unreadable expression blended across his blue eyes. He was alone in the room. Alone and cold. 

Something in Hookfang twisted. “Turn it off,” he commanded, unable to watch anymore. The image instantly muddled away and returned to its original shifting rainbow of colors. The flames suddenly died off, as well, and the shimmering colors faded to none. He helplessly wished he was there for him instead of the realm. If he had, his human wouldn’t have been cold. His viking wouldn't have been alone. He didn’t realize at that moment that the Enchantwing suddenly stared at him with wide and curious teal eyes.

Toothless looked as surprised as Hookfang. The night fury hadn’t expected the shorter viking to be all by himself. If anything, he had expected the man to at least be conversing with his friends like the dragon usually saw during his days on Berk. It just seemed out of his usual character. 

“We should leave,” Hookfang muttered, keeping his gaze to the ground. 

Toothless agreed, practically sensing the mood radiating from the larger dragon. If he were to burst into flames again, it should not be in this part of the cave. He thanked the Enchantwing for her time and agreed to recollect the ingredients for another spell to check up on Hiccup again soon. With that, he shifted his wings, preparing himself for flight. 

“May I speak alone to your friend before he leaves, my king?” the Enchantwing quickly asked. Hookfang, who was also moments before take off, stopped and looked at her in confusion. 

“That would be his decision,” Toothless remarked. 

Hookfang gave a small shrug, a very human gesture, and relaxed his wings. “I’ll catch up to you,” he assured the other dragon. The king of dragons nodded, and with that, he gracefully leaped into the air and flew back into the narrower parts of the caves. 

“You must really long for the human,” the elder suggested once the king was out of range. 

“What is it to you?” Hookfang retorted. 

“I can see the mix of feelings you have for him.” A gentle, almost motherly laughed emitted from her. “In all my years, never did I think to see a dragon in love with a human. Another male, no less.”

Hookfang gawked at her. “I'm not--! I just hate to see him like that. He has others to comfort him, but sometimes he’s too dimwitted to realize that with-”

“-out you?” A knowing smirk spread on her face. 

The monstrous nightmare could feel the all so familiar itch under his scales when he had the need to burst into flames. “It’s not what you think...” 

“Flame-scales, I see nothing wrong with your unique bond with the human. I find it rather sweet really.” 

Hookfang sighed, so similar to a human, and tried to ease his growing itch. “I just..I just miss him..” he admitted for the first time since since he left Berk. “He was a muttonhead most of the time, sure, but there were reasons...and he thinks so little of himself in private because of this stupid father, it’s ridiculous…” He had never spoken anything of the sort to anyone before, but it felt like a heavy weight was lifted of him. Call it his pride or embarrassment of admitting he cared deeply for the viking, but Hookfang always told himself that he would never speak about this to anyone.

“‘Muttonhead,’ hm? Strange choice of words…” The Enchandwing thought for a moment when suddenly her eyes lit up. “I think I know of how tI can help you!” 

Hookfang’s interest piqued. “How can you possibly help? No dragon is allowed to leave this place, and no offence, but I don't think even a little magic spell is going to change Toothless’ mind.” 

“Yes exactly, no _dragon_ is allowed to leave the hidden realm of dragons, but if said dragon were, say, something else, no law would be broken.” 

“Are you saying…” Hookfangs eyes grew in realization. “Is that even possible!?” 

“Perhaps,” the Enchantwing mused. ”A spell of that nature and intricacy hasn’t been performed in centuries. Not even your little island of Berk existed when the last spell of shapeshifting was believed to be casted. But I think there’s a possibility it could successfully work,” 

Hope sprung in Hookfangs chest. This could work, he encouraged himself. It was probably a stupid plan, but if it ment that he could comfort his human once more, it was a change he would take in a heartbeat. 

“But there’s one thing I must ask you if you wish to go through this...unique plan.” The Enchantwing’s express fell seriously. “Are you willing to give up everything you are as a dragon—your scales, your flight, your very _fire_ , for this single human? Even if it could mean he might never know who you truly are?” 

There was a small pause as Hookfangs let the words sink in. He would be giving up everything it meant to be a dragon, and there could be a chance his Viking would never know that he was the dragon he grew up with. Despite the weight of the question, his answer didn’t falter.

“I am.” 


	2. Terror of the Red Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snotlout gets asked out. Hiccup deals with the meeting of chiefs and hears unexpecting news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to sircharalot for the kudos! I really appreciate it. Thank you! 
> 
> So, next chapter now. Sorry if this one seems a little slow, but hopefully you enjoy the awkwardness, a dash of attempted humor, and a sprinkle of more OCs. The chapter will finally feature a little bit of human Hookfang, I promise. 
> 
> Anyways, happy reading! :)

Snotlout woke up shivering with a huge splinter embedded in his arm, and the sound of a loud knock on his front door boomed in his ears. Groaning, he hoisted himself off the splintering wooden floor—seriously, he needed to get it sanded down or something—and stumbled over his woolen blanket to the carved door.

“If you're here to sell your stinking dragon scout cookies, I’ll say it just like I told your little friends. I’m not-!” He was cut off as he opened the door to find that it wasn’t another annoying child at his door “-Eret?” 

“Um, I’m guessing I wasn't the first person you were expecting, then?” The man outside shifted his weight under his feet with one hand behind his back. 

“What are you doing here? I already told you, Valka is yours for the taking. I lost interest like a year ago,” Snotlout muttered and began to close his door. It wasn’t true, though. He had never really looked at Hiccup's mother in that light in the first place. It might have been a little extreme, sure, as Hookfang had, at the time, made it pretty clear through the dragon's body language, but he kept the act going in order to ensure that the village knew he liked women, not men. It was already possible the rest of the former dragon riders had already had their suspicions of him after the Thor Bonecrusher incidents during their late teen years, but Snotlout had always been determined to extinguish those thoughts before they started. A man liking another man, even if he did occasionally feel attraction with women from time to time, wasn’t the village norm, and he didn’t want to be looked at with strange glances or, even worse, if his father found out...

“Wait!” Eret’s hand practically slapped the wood to keep it open. “That wasn’t at all what I wanted to discuss.” 

“What is it then?” That piqued Snotlout’s interest. The two had made it clear of their distaste for each other for about a year after vikings settled into New Berk. Yet, for a few days at a time, their occasional arguments shifted more into discussions about dragons and past events while living on old Berk, which then ended with a short cough and Snotout reminding Eret that he still hated him as he walked away. It had been a year since both their last argument and/or discussion, around the time when Snotlout began to further distance himself from the other vikings. The last time the two had even remotely held a conversation longer than four words was weeks ago.

“For a while I’ve...erm...” He cleared his throat before awkwardly continuing.”These are for you. Your home looks like it needed a little bit of color.” 

Any other day, Snotlout would’ve taken that last remark as an insult to his humble abode, but any train of thought stopped short as Eret pulled his other hand from behind his back. Clenched in his fist, a colorful assortment of hand-picked flowers swayed gently in the light breeze. Unknown to the other Viking, Eret had gotten the idea from a while ago during one of his weekly discussions and rants he had come to enjoy with Gobber. Him and the black smith had grown quite close over similar opinions as well as sexuality, and Eret, in a strange way, came to view the man as a sort of father figure who gave much needed advice when he found himself in difficult situations. 

The blacksmith had previously mentioned his suspicions of where the shorter viking’s attractions may lay. He even went as far as to mention a story of some sort of fictional or hypnotized man Snotlout had practically been helmet over heels with...? Eret didn’t quite remember all the details, but decided to finally throw everything in the wind and take a blind chance. It didn’t quite seem to be working at the moment, though.

Both men stood still, and a long and awkward silence spread between them. Frowning and suddenly looking like he was about to make a run for it, Eret was the first to speak. “Erm...This might’ve been a misunderstanding…” 

“No, they’re beautiful--I mean, uh, I like them.” Snotlout opened the door a bit more and looked around cautiously for prying eyes before he reached to grab the carefully arranged set of flowers. They couldn’t have grown close to the village, he thought. He’d never seen colors quite like this during his walks along the nearby woods.. “Thank you…” . 

“It wasn’t any trouble,” the taller man replied, relaxing a bit. Maybe there  _ was _ a chance of being on the shorter man's good side. A small smile traced his face at the thought. 

“So, uh, where’d you get these, anyways? I’ve never seen flowers like these here.” Snotlout gently traced a petal with his finger. 

“They actually bloomed a few days ago on the far side of the island...where I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me tomorrow morning..?” Eret shifted again on the balls of his feet. 

Snotlout’s eyes drifted back to the flowers and widened in realization. “Like a...you know, date?” If someone had told him a week ago that Eren would be asking him out, he would’ve laughed and punched the unlucky viking in the gut.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Eret quickly chimed in. “Think of it as...two friends hanging out if you want…” 

“Yeah..” the other mused. A small flutter of excitement shifted inside him, one that he hadn’t felt in two years. Of course, over the years Eret came to live on Berk, he had found himself admiring the muscled man once or twice. The guy was both strong and kind, for crying out loud, and nearly every girl in the village could say they had a crush on him at least once for a few weeks. Surprising himself one day, Snotlout found himself realizing he had fallen into the same vote. He refused to acknowledge it before, but this changed his thoughts entirely. 

Maybe he could, just this once, put his worries to the side. 

Against his fears and before he could give himself a chance for second thoughts, he continued. “Tomorrow, you said?”

“Yes, tomorrow morning,” Eret actually  _ grinned _ , causing Snotlout to reflect his friend's expression. 

“How about this? Meet me by the cliffs on the northern side of the island then, and  _ don’t _ be late,” he gave a playful smirk. 

Eret son of Eret nodded. “You have my word.”

* * *

As evening began to fall, Hiccup sat in the great hall with his advisors: Astrid, Fishlegs, and—very surprisingly to many—the twins, in preparation for the meeting with his nearby tribe leaders. Since settling in on the new island, the chieftain made efforts to start on good terms with any neighboring islands to assure them that New Berk was not a threat to them. He soon found out that there were three other tribes who had, over generations, become allies to each other in times of need, and within long weeks of conversing with the three, New Berk became a fourth tribe. 

Every other new moon, the islands took turns hosting a meeting where each would have a chance to discuss, mediate, and/or resolve any problems they may have, whether it be internal and/or external to them. At the moment, it was New Berk’s turn to host.

“We got the rest of this,” Astrid reassured her husband. For the last few hours, the group of five had been rearranging and decorating the meeting place for each visiting tribe, as was the tradition the Chieftain had learned from the other tribe leaders. Three long rows of tables laid along the length of the hall, each accompanied with food and centerpieces that reflected the islands where the leaders came from, along with a fourth one in the very back perpendicular to the three. 

To the far left was the table arranged for the southern volcanic island of the Tropikals. Each plate consisted of fish and fruit and was accompanied with small glass bowls of sand and shells, each holding a candle or two. In the center row, was the table of the mountainous Valleylands. The food mainly consisted of roasted lamb with various greens and various figurines of women warriors woven from various grasses lined it’s center. The third table, to the very right, represented the snowy island of the Glacier peoples. Unlike the fish of the first table, its plates were topped with fish caught in the colder Berkian fishing areas, and small ice sculptures that were likely to be completely melted by the end of the gathering were placed in a row along the center of the wood, eached placed on bowl-shaped saucers to prevent water from dripping all around. 

Lastly, most familiar to Hiccup, was the table representing Berk. It’s food was the usual yak meat and fish the chief had come to love. Unlike the other three, only one centerpiece laid on the table’s center, a large stone sculpture of a dragon, a night fury to be exact, stood on all fours. In front of the dragon, a young boy stood, with his hand gently resting on its head, symbolizing the bond Berk had once shared with the creatures. Hiccup could never keep himself from smiling at the statue and the bittersweet memories that came from it. 

“You go down to the docks to greet them.” Astrid lightly punched his shoulder. “They’re probably already waiting for the big and mighty chief of Berk to welcome them,” She teased, earning a laugh from her love.

“Thanks. You’re probably right, but definitely not about that last part, though,” Hiccup chuckled. Throughout the last couple of years, he had grown a bit in size and muscle, but he still overall kept his trademark skinniness compared to the rest of the Vikings. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” Astrid playfully rolled her eyes and led him to the large wooden doors of the great hall. “Oh, and don't forget, when this is all over tomorrow we should tell Snotlout and the rest about-“

“The trip, yes, I know,” Hiccup replied.

Astrid smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. “Good. Now go get ‘em.”

Hiccup chuckled and pushed open the large doors of the great hall, walking down the graveled road to the docks. True to Astrid’s prediction, ships could already be seen in the distance along the open waters of the sea, and the chieftain hurried to greet them. 

The first ship to make its way to the docks was that of the Tropikals, who’s chief went by the name Magnus Vulkanson. He was only a few years older than Hiccup, who was the youngest of the four, and Viking found the man...interesting to say the least. The man’s energy reminded Hiccup somewhat a flirtatious version of Dagur the Deranged. 

“Chief Hiccup, my man!!” Magnus’ hands made some weird pointing gesture at him as he walked down the ramp of his boat the docks. “How’s the wife and kid? Did ya miss me? You totally did, didn’t you?” He wrapped his arms tightly around Hiccup in a deathly hug, causing his long strawberry blonde locks to fall into the other man’s face. 

“They've been..good,” the Viking struggled for air. “And uh..yeah I guess...There’s never a...dull moment when you’re around.”

“Aww, aren’t you so charming,” he grinned and released the smaller man from his rib-cracking grasp. He shivered and held his furs that draped over his shoulders closer to him. “Gods, how do you guys stand this weather? It’s freezing out here.” 

Hiccup actually thought it was a rather nice day outside, but from his experiences with the southernmost island of the four, the weather stayed quite warm year round for the tribe, making colder temperatures longer to adjust to.

“Well, there’s a warm fire and food in the great hall a ways into the village,” Hiccup spoke. “Please, make yourself at home.”

“That would be awesome!” Magnus cheered, and began to walk backwards on the docks, still facing Hiccup. “Thanks gorgeous, you really know how to make a guy’s day.”

The strawberry blonde blew the other chief a kiss before spinning around and walking away like nothing happened. Behind him, his small group of advisers quickly followed. He knew the man’s flirting was just his strange way of being friendly, but as it usually happened with any conversations he had with the blond, Hiccup had no idea how to respond.

The next ship to dock belonged to the Valleylanders and their chieftess, Erika the Bold. Opposite of Magnus, she was quite calm in nature. She was a little younger than Hiccup's mother, and had dark hair that was half braided in thin rows. The other half laid loosely over her shoulder with colorful red and blue feathers woven into it, a common style of the Valleylanders.

“Hiccup Haddock, it is a pleasure meeting you again,” Erika greeted with a modest smile along her lips. She held her arm out to the other, to which the Viking shook.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you too,” Hiccup replied, returning the smile. “Magnus is already here as well. I’ll be joining you in the great hall once Iven and his ship arrives, but for now, make yourself at home. There’s food and a warm fire going.” 

“I believe Iven should be here quite soon,” Erika assures. “In all the years I’ve known him, he has never been late to a tribe meeting.” 

Iven the Icemaster was the leader of Glacier peoples. He was the oldest of the four chiefs and chieftess, and Hiccup felt like he would’ve gotten along quite well with his father. The older man was usually seen with a long beard tied loosely at the end with a fair amount of grey and white strands that invaded its originall brown color over the years. Over his shoulders was usually a thick pelt coat, and he was never seen without a sheathed sword hung loosely at his hip.

“Thank you for your assurance.” Hiccup had confidence that Erika was right. She mentioned once that she had known Iven since she was a young girl and views him nearly as her mentor. From what he had seen himself, the older man was never one to be late. 

Erika simply nodded, and she, along with her advisors, began the walk to the great hall. 

About an hour ticked by, and the small crews of each docked ship began to settle down and anchor each ship. Each, soon after, made their ways off the ports and to the great hall to eat. Another hour passed, and worry began to take over Hiccup’s mind. The setting sun shined golden across the waves, but no ship could be seen along the horizon. 

After another half hour, and Fishlegs had made his way to port in a rather anxious state, volunteering to stay and keep watch in Hiccup’s place.

“Things are starting to get a little crazy waiting up there,” he reported, ringing his hands. “I just walked out to Magnus challenging Tuffnut to another fight. I think it’s best if you start the meeting already. Before it gets even more out of hand.” 

Hiccup sighed, knowing very well that the chief and twin should never be left together in the same room longer than necessary. The only reason the Thorston twins had been selected as advisors in the first place was for their surprisingly good mediating skills they proved in their late teens with Mala and Dagur. Last time Hiccup had heard from the married couple, they had been getting along just fine on their three year anniversary. 

“You’re probably right. Maybe Iven is just having trouble with his sails or something,” Hiccup agreed. It was an unlikely guess, sure, but if the older man wasn’t there by nightfall, the Viking planned on sending search ships just in case there was trouble. 

Hiccup quickly returned to the great hall. The enormous wooden doors creaked under his push, and he made it just in time to witness Magnus, sword in hand, making a running start on the table to hit Tuffnut. “Oh come on, just admit it! It’s not a beard unless it’s actually attached to your face. 

Tuffnut gasped, quickly reflecting the move with his own sword. “How dare you insult my facial hair!” He swung as hard as he could at Magnus—who easily dodged by leaning to his right—and fell off the table to the wooden floor from the force. “You jealous fiend!” The hall erupted with several shouts and cheers from the crew members and even a handful advisors. Some loudly took bet among themselves as to who would win, 

“Both of you get down from there!” Astrid yelled, looking like she was about to kill the two herself with an axe that shook in her hand. Ruffnut, who stood to her right, yelled over the crowd to cheer on her brother. 

“You two are making fools of yourself! Stop it with your ridiculous games this instant!” Erika shouted from her center table. 

“Everyone stop!!!” Hiccup screamed. His voice boomed and echoed across the spacious hall, causing the fighting and shouting to instantly halt. All eyes stared at the young chief of Berk, causing a mild anxiousness to creep on the one-legged man.

“Busted..” Magnus said quietly. 

“I was at the ports only for a couple of hours and you guys are already placing bets on who’s going to kill each other.” He glared at the crowd of people in front of him. 

The majority of the faces looked down in slight guilt or shame, and a few coins were passed under the table to those who bet that the chief would stop the fighting before someone was killed. The two who had been fighting, however, showed no sign of regret. 

“Oh come on. It’s felt like years since they got here,” Tuffnut dramatically remarked, still laying on the ground. The comment earned an eye roll from a frustrated Astrid. “And what’s wrong with a little friendly post-dinner dueling to get the blood flowing?” 

“Sorry if I went a little too far with the beard comment by the way.” Magnus jumped off the table and held out a hand to help the man up. “I was just really in the moment this time.”

“No worries, my friend,” the male twin grinned and accepted the hand. “That gave just enough anger to keep a good fight going.” The men grinned at each other. Their friendship was awfully strange.

“Will you quiet for even a sliver of a moment?!” Erika demanded before she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. She then turned to Hiccup. “Has Iven arrived yet?” 

Hiccup gave her a worried look. “No, he hasn’t made it here yet.” 

Erika’s eyebrows furrowed. “That's so unusual of him. He’s never taken this long on a voyage before...”

“I know,” Hiccup assured, “and if he’s still not here come nightfall, I plan to send a search party to make sure he’s safe.” 

Relaxing slightly, Erika opened her mouth to say something when suddenly the doors bursted open with a loud and echoing boom. Fishlegs stood at the entrance, out of break from likely running from the port. ‘Uh, Hiccup? You might want to see this.”

A tattered ship had made its way to the ports below. The largest of its three sails was tattered with precise tears and burns. Along the deck, a handful frightened men and women who made up its crew were covered in soot and ashes. What bothered Hiccup the most, though, was the large scars of scorched wood on one side. Hiccup hadn’t seen this specific type of damage on a ship in years. A sickness turned in his stomach. 

“We were attacked.” Iven said as he made it off the ship, his voice low and deep. 

“By who?” the youngest chief hesitantly asked. 

“Not by who,” the older man corrected, “by _ what _ ?” 

“Was anyone injured?” Magnus asked, his expression serious.

“Thankfully, no. But my people are still severely frightened.”

After a long hour, the group of chiefs and advisors finally managed to calm the people of the ship and settle them down with the great hall, where, by some miracle, the food prepared for the Glacier tribe was still warm. However, the icey centerpieces did not meet a fortunate fate. 

The four leaders soon broke away from the crowd to speak alone. 

Erika was the first to speak. “Iven,” the woman slowly began, “what happened?”

Iven heaved a heavy sigh and began to speak. He told the other three that he and his crew were about halfway on his voyage to New Berk, when suddenly a mysterious fog fell over them. The boat had begun to quake and suddenly shadows of something flew above them. The crew had begun to raise their weapons when a fiery blast hit the ship's side, causing it to sway violently over the waters, The men and women stumbled to the floor. Several other blasts of flames followed, but no one knew where to aim. They knew there was only one type of creature to create flames as so...

“Dragons,” Iven spoke softly and looked to the Berkian chief. 

Hiccup couldn’t move or speak. There were still more dragons out there, some who didn’t depart to the Hidden World. From where the story was going, he knew the new information was entirely good, either. But nothing could’ve prepared him for what came next. 

Out of the smoke and fog, Iven continued, the outline of a dragon rose beside the ship. It was the size of a monstrous nightmare, maybe bigger, and as it moved closer, ashy scales could be seen that looked to be tougher than a gronckles.

The sudden blast of blinding light, a young girl stood in its place. Her skin was pale and ashy, and she wore a plain dark dress that failed to cover the small amount of scales on her shoulders. She looked to be no older than fifteen years, and the straighten hair that hung neatly over her shoulders was a ruby red color that flaked with spots of bluish grey. Similarly colored freckles recklessly splattered her face like blood droplets, and around her neck, she wore a bright amulet that illuminated her features with a blood red glow. 

“I mean you no harm,” she spoke with a wicked smile. The dark figures of dragons that swarmed around gave it another sharp sway. “Well, no more than necessary.” She lifted a thin, but in no ways frail, arm to the terror-struck crew. In sync with her arm, two long, grey wings stretched behind her, wings that looked very similar to a red death’s. A finger was pointed to the crew, and she bared teeth too sharp to be humans. “And which one of you  _ lovely  _ humans is the leader who will speak tonight with Hiccup Horrendous Haddock?” 

Iven stepped forward from the rest. In one swift movement, he unsheathed his sword and directed it at the creature. “That would be me.” 

The girl laughed at the move, but continued anyway.”There’s no need for that. I’ll be on my way after I say what I need. I simply want a long awaited message to be delivered to the  _ heartless _ chief...”

Pausing from the story, Iven glanced at Hiccup, and a mix of sorrow and fear glazed over his eyes. The story shocked all of the leaders. Magnus’ eyes were as wide as saucers, and Erika muttered things of magic and witchcraft under her breath.

“And what was the massage?” Hiccup asked. His heart sank as he heard the answer. 

“She said ‘I am the Red Knight, warrior and last heir of the Dark Queen—the Red Death—and the true ruler of dragon kind, and I seek death to those involved in my mother’s demise.’”


	3. Awkward Dates and Stomachaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the transformation begin mwahaha!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrightly! Next chapter! Here we go! 
> 
> Special thanks to the four guests for the kudos! You may be anonymous but you are greatly appreciated! :)
> 
> It might change later on, but I’m trying to keep a steady update flow of about once per week for a while. I still have to edit chapter 4 and I’m currently starting to write out chapter 5, so hopefully it works out. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

It took about a full day of collecting before Hookfang managed to gather the list of ingredients the Enchantwing instructed for him. There was a small bowl like rock carved along the edge of the circular stone structure she placed the small assortment of rocks, crystals, and herbs in. 

“This spell also requires a part of the one who wishes to transform,” the Enchanting spoke.

Hookfang stiffened. “What kind of part?”

The elder chuckled. “A few molting scales will do. Nothing big like a limb or wing like you were expecting.”

“How did you-?”

“Your expression tells more than you know,” she stated simply and continued to work. She cupped a small bit of water from the nearby spring into her wing and poured into the bowl. Next, she spit a small amount of magma—quite similar to a gronckle—into the rock as well. 

“You must heat the pot with your fire.” She instructed, and Hookfang did as she said. Tongues of flame erupted from the monstrous nightmare’s mouth and engulfed the rock, and as it began to glow with heat, the Enchantwing spoke again. “That should be enough.” Hookfang then stopped the fire. 

“Only one more step and it will be finished,” the Enchanwing grinned and walked away from the small pink tree that glimmered with fuzzy white fruit. “This is a wishing tree, a rare plant that is said by ancient dragons to come from Valhalla itself.”

With the small hook at the end of her wing, she picked one of the small, round fruits.

“You see,” she continued, “every powerful spell needs a conduit of sorts to hold its magic. That way it could be contained and controlled, and a peach from this tree is just powerful enough to contain magic like this.” 

Hookfang watched in awe as she dropped the peach into the rocky pot and began to speak in an ancient dragonese he couldn’t understand. The fruit floated to the top of the various ingredients and all the heat from the bowl seemed to flow into it until the white fruit glowed a deep scarlet color. 

The Enchantwing picked up the gleaming peach with the hook of her wing and placed it on the grass in front of Hookfang. The stone pot behind her was now cool to the touch. 

“One small bite and you will be transferred to your human as one of them, but you must remember: you cannot directly tell anyone of your real identity or else the spell will falter and break.” she warned. “Unfortunately, even magic can have it’s drawbacks. One can only know who you truly are on their own. If your tongue slips, no matter where you may be or what you may be doing, you must immediately flee from anyone’s sight before you shift back and return to the hidden realm.” 

Hookfang nodded, staring at the ruby colored fruit in front of him. “Thank you.” He spoke unusually softly. 

“Thank your heart,” the elder dragon smiled. “It’s wish was too strong and pure for me to refuse. Good luck, my friend.”

With a wordless nod, Hookfang hovered his snout towards the peach and ate it whole. 

The world suddenly seemed to shake beneath him, and a blinding light seemed to devour him. There was an instant pain that erupted from his stomach, and Hookfang squeezed his eyes shut. There were no words to describe what he felt. His wings seemed to fold in on themselves and his limbs felt compressed. He couldn’t move from where he stood or scream from the burning discomfort hat spread like tendrils through his bones. 

Then, a strange cold spread over him, and just as quickly as it started, the pain stopped; and everything went dark. 

* * *

“So this is where you’ve been all those times when no one could find you?” Eret asked. 

“One of them, yeah,” Snotlout shrugged, munching on the small loaf of bread he was supposed to share with the other man as breakfast. Eret didn’t mind, of course. In fact, he had expected it and brought an extra loaf just in case. “Pretty much.” 

At dawn, two had begun hiking through the dense greenery of the forest that curved around the northern wing of the island. A worn, one-man path from Snotlout’s many trips to the place within the past two years marked the way for the two; and while he managed to walk along the trail with ease, Eret struggled to not trip on the various roots and shrubs that came his way. A rocky clearing laid ahead just along the outskirts of trees, marking the tops of the cliffs, and a small shelter made of sticks and cloth Snotlout had carefully made a while back stood soundly for nights he chose to spend away from the village.

“How come...?” the taller man asked, but his question ran short as they finally approached the rocky area. “Oh..” He knew exactly why. Along the edge of the cliff was a large faded but familiar dragon-shaped pattern of scorched stone. 

“Uh, yeah...”Snotlout rubbed the back of his head, unsure if what the other was thinking was good or bad. “This was one of the last few places I hung out with Hookfang before..”

“I understand,” Eret stopped the other, not wanting to cause the other to relive any difficult memories.

The two sat on a small log that had fallen nearby a few weeks ago. Snotlout had moved it closer to the rock for a better place to sit when he had discovered it while walking up the path. . 

“I can see why you enjoy this place, though. The view is beautiful from up here.” Eret awed as he looked along the ocean below. To the east of them, the rising sun seemed to set the sky ablaze with a fiery blend of colors. A silence one again came over the two, and only the sound of crashing waves and a floating melody of songbirds could be heard in the breeze. 

“I feel like I should be over everything by now.” Snotlout surprised himself as he confessed suddenly. 

Eret frowned, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked back at the other. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

“I mean with the dragons and them leaving. Everyone’s already moved on with their lives, but I’m still stuck in the past,” he began, and two years of pent up feeling and thoughts about the dragons started to burst uncontrollably from him. “Everyone keeps saying they’re in a better place like they’re dead or something, and hearing it just makes everything feel so much worse. I mean, he was my  _ friend _ for crying out loud. We went through a lot together, and then just like that he’s gone…and probably having the time of his life now in the Hidden World with all the other monstrous nightmares while I’m still…” His eyes focused on the ground in front of him, looking anywhere but the other man next to him. “..it’s not fair.” His voice wobbled slightly, and he felt his face flush in embarrassment and shame at the confession.

_ “Jorgensens are supposed to be fearless and stoic warriors _ ,  _ boy-o _ ,” his father had told him many times while growing up. ” _ Not emotional pansies _ .” 

Suddenly, Snotlout felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “If it makes you feel better,” Eret attempted, “there are still times where I find myself deeply missing Scullcrusher as well, and I bonded with him a sliver of the time you had with  _ your  _ dragon. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” 

Snotlout drifted his gaze to the other. There was a sad look in both their eyes.

“It may surprise you after the past...” Eret searched for a word to describe it. “..feuds we’ve seen to have, but I hate seeing you like this, and I want to do anything in my power to help you. If you allow me, of course..” 

Snotlout stared at the other man, and saw a pleading look in the other man's golden brown eyes. In the morning sun, his face seemed to shine a golden color. He nodded, accepting the other man's words, and after a moment, they found their faces only inches apart from each other. They leaned towards one another magnets, nearly closing the gap until—

Something along the beaches below caught Snotlout's eye. Despite the heavy pounding in his chest, he turned his head below the cliffs to spot something red washed along the Berkian shores.

Eret noticed the other’s movements and awkwardly straightened himself. A deep blush spread across his cheek, whether it was flustered or mild embarrassment, he did not know, until he noticed Snotlout’s squinting at something below the cliffs they sat upon. His own eyes followed his gaze and saw some sort of figure below, “What is that?” 

“I don't know, but I think we should go check it out,” Snotlout replied before shifting a bit to stand up. Something inside him seemed to pull him to whatever drifted in the cold ocean water. 

It took a good while to hike down to the beach, but once they reached the sands, they realized the figure was quite human in shape. Simultaneously, the pair began to run toward the shivering person, knowing that one could only endure for so long in the chilly waters.

Laying unconscious, covered in nothing but sand and the rising tide, was the most beautiful man Snotlout had ever seen. Long, red hair that rested just about to his bare shoulder blades. His face was slim and lightly freckled around his cheeks, He was slightly pale, and his arms and shoulders were toned with a modest amount of muscle. What Snotlout found most strange was a wavy pattern of dark markings starting over the top of his left bicep around the outside of his arms to about the beginning of his elbow. The viking snorn he had seen a similar shape of the sort before, but the thought ran short as the man continued shivering. 

“Is he..?” Snotlout asked as he noticed Eret shifting the unconscious man to place an ear on his bare chest. 

“He’s alive,” Eret replied, and the two man visually relaxed. “But probably not for much longer if we don’t get him to Valka.” 

Since the Berkians settled in their new island Gothi began to feel that she was coming close to the end of her years and wished to soon retire from her title as the village healer. The eldest of the village later asked Hiccup’s mother to be her successor as the healer of Berk. Valka kindly accepted, of course, and for the last two years, she had been learning from and assisting the older women as she worked. Recently, though, Gothi had stepped down completely and began to enjoy her relaxing days of patient-free retirement. Valka became the lone healer, and only came for the elder if she needed some information for the few rare cases that were not already written down in the elders notes. 

The two males quickly pulled the freezing man out of the water and further down to the beach where the sand was bone dry. Eret took off his fur overcoat and quickly wrapped it around the shivering arms and torso in hopes of keeping them warm. Snotlout did the same, ignoring the chill around his arms as he did, and carefully curled it around the man’s pale legs and feet. 

The mysterious stranger was heavier than his thin frame suggested, and the pair initially struggled to pick him up. Eventually they managed to hoist him over both their shoulders, where they quickly but carefully headed back to the village to Valka’s residence. 

The new healer had been assisting a hefty woman with a mild cold when the two burst into the room. She quickly sent the patient away with a mixture of medicines and moved to the two panicking men with some sort of bundle of furs over their shoulders.

She nearly gasped when she noticed an unfamiliar face swaddled in the jackets. “Who is this?” She asked.

“We found him washed up on the shore.” Snotlout began. 

“He was shivering in the water and we didn't know what to do.” Eret added. Both of the men had an urgent tone in their voices.

The healer quickly realized there was no time for any more explanations when she heard a soft groan from the man in question. “Get him on the bed,” she instructed. “Quickly.” 

The other two did as she said, and Valka carefully moved to unwrap the stranger from his cocoon of pelts. “Where are his clothes?” 

“He, uh, didn’t have any.” Snotlout replied awkwardly. 

Valka frowned, but said no more about the matter. She carefully checked the man for any possible wounds, and, finding none, she replaced the coats with a dry blanket. She rushed to grab a small cauldron filled with water and hung its handle on a hook that hovered over the fireplace in the corner of the room.

As the water slowly heated, she moved back to the stranger and felt his forehead and cheeks with the back of her hand. “He’s very weak and very warm—maybe a slight fever—but he should be fine to say the least once he’s rested up.” she reported and turned to the pair sighing in relief. “You boys were lucky you found him when you did. You very well saved his life.”

“Well, the credit should go to Snotlout, here. He was the one to spot him while we were…” Eret paused, remembering what the two were moments away from just before they found the man. “Erm...by the northern beaches.”

“Well, he should wake up very soon,” the older woman said as she drifted to her medicine desk along the wall of the room opposite to the bed and began to place various herbs in a wooden bowl. “Oh, Eret?” She suddenly remembered. “Hiccup has been looking for you all morning. It seemed urgent.” 

“I’ll head over there, then,” Eret began to make his way to the door. “Thank you, Valka.” 

The woman gave a short nod and motherly smile before returning to her work. 

Before leaving, Eret asked Snotoud to speak with him for a moment outside, to which he agreed and followed him out the door.

“Back on the cliffs…” he looked down and nervously.. “I’m sorry if I overstepped—“

“No, it’s fine.” Snotlout cut him off. A light blush spread on his cheeks as he remembered how close the two men were too…”You should probably go see Hiccup though. I’m probably going to just stay here and help out Valka with his new guy.” He shrugged. He had no plans for the day anyway. 

The other man gave an uncertain nod and began to turn towards the great hall.

“And Eret?” Snotlout quickly added before his mind convinced him otherwise. 

Eret stopped and turned his head. “Yes?” 

“Maybe we could hang out again another time,” the shorter Viking offered. 

The other male smiled softly. “I would like that.” and with that, he walked away. 

Walking inside, Snotlout found that the water Valka had put over the fire was now placed into two different bowls, one being the one she had been placing an assortment of herbs and leaves in. 

“This blend should be enough to lower whatever fever he’s got,” she explained. “Could you help sit him up so he could drink?” 

Snotlout followed her to the resting man and did his best to shift him into a more sitting position against his pillow. The simple movement, the Viking soon found, was much more difficult that he expected. Just like he had quickly learned with Eret on the beach, the blanketed man weighed much more than his thin, but modestly muscular, frame told. 

Valka opened the strangers mouth slightly, and poured a small amount of her tea-looking mix, to which, to her relief, the red haired man instantly complied to drink. She continued to steadily pour it to him.

“Do you mind fetching that bowl there other bowl with the washcloth in it?” The healer pointed at her desk on the opposite end of the room. 

Snotlout did as she asked and placed the bowl on a small bedside table “What do you need this for, anyway?”

“There’s still quite a bit of sand on him. It’s probably best to at least clean off the bit that’s dried to face for now.” A good bath, Valka thought, would be the best to clean the rest of the resting redhead when he woke up. Her first priority at the moment, though, was keeping him warm in the blankets she wrapped around him. 

Snotlout dipped the washcloth in the warm water. The instant his hand reached his face, though, he was surprised to feel the other’s head lean lightly into his touch, and a series of faint rumbles and clicks escaped him. The sound reminded Snotlout of the soft noises Hookfang used to make when the dragon slept, but he shook off the thought as quickly as it reached him. He need to focus on the task at hand. 

It didn’t take much longer for the two vikings to do all they could tend to the red haired man. “All that’s left now is for him to wake up,”Valka had said.

Snotlout soon found himself still sitting by the bedside. He stared out a small window cut into the wall, where he could see the midday sun shining brightly on the hills and trees of the outside landscape. 

He settled himself in a spare chair Valka had laying around the room, and instantly he felt the exhaustion of the day already falling over. He had barely managed to catch a wink of sleep last night, and he could already feel his eyelids cursing him for it.. One nap couldn’t hurt, he thought.

Snotlout turned his gaze to the mysterious man in the bed beside him. In the sunlight shining through the window, his hair looked as if it had been set aflame. A calm was swept across his face, the Viking could’ve sword there was a ghost of a smile curved on his lips.

“Who are you…?” Snotlout muttered before he closed his eyes and drifted off into the dark abyss of sleep.

* * *

Eret could feel the wave of panic that drifted through the great hall as he entered. The room was filled with anxious leaders, advisors, and sailors of the neighboring islands who usually attended the tribe meetings, all of whom he had expected to be preparing for the journey back to their homelands by now, as well as Hiccup and his own small council. The Berkian Chief sitting at one end of the long table that lines the opposite wall of the room. He was nervously conversing with the other three chieftains.

Eret, himself, was also appointed as an advisor to the chief, though he was given permission just this once to not attend the meeting of tribes. Hiccup had known of his liking towards Snotlout and actually encouraged him to spend some more time with their friend.

“ _ He hasn’t been himself lately, _ ” Hiccup had said to him.  _ “I think he just needs someone like you to push him in the right direction.” _

Noting the wave of fear around him though, maybe this meeting wasn’t the best one to not attend.

Eret finally made his way to the small group. “I’m sorry I wasn't here sooner. I with Snotlout when--”

“Wait, Snotlout’s still alive?” Tuffnut, who had been standing nearby and eavesdropping on the leaders’ conversation for the last few minutes, interrupted. “I thought he died like a year ago.”

Hiccup’s brows furrowed and he looked at the twin, “No, of course he’s not--aren’t you and Ruffnut supposed to be calming down the crowds?” He nodded his head towards the anxious men and women. A few of them looked like they were only moments from a heart attack. 

The four chiefs had tried to assure them that they were safe from whatever magical human-dragon girl and her followers who had attacked the Glacier people and responding actions were being planned, but nothing seemed to work. The twins had been their last resort to keep the peace as they discussed possible ways to address the situation or, at the very least, serve as a distraction from the panic

“Well..yeah, but she’s too busy making  _ goo-goo eyes _ Magnus to do anything useful at the moment,” Tuffnut made a dramatic puking noise. 

Magnus, who was sitting on Hiccups right, swung his head around to see the girl in question staring right at him with a dreamy look in her eyes. He threw her a playful smirk and a flirtatious wink before shifting back into the group with a very uncomfortable look on his face. Eret knew the feeling too well from his first few months living on Berk. 

Upon the alliance formed with Berk and the Tropikals, Eret, as one of Hiccup’s advisors, had naturally conversed with Magnus on many occasions 

The two had developed a good friendship, one that was not strange or chaotic like the southern chief had with Tuffnut. Eret thought it was rather nice, actually. 

“Please, just go get her to help you,” the Berkian Chief said sharply to Tuffnut. He was already feeling overwhelmed trying to figure out what to do with Iven’s news before word spread across the island and did not have the usual patience with the twins’ antics. 

Even the male twin could sense the other vikings stress. He backed up a bit. “Uh, yeah, you got it, chief,” he said quickly before running towards his sister. 

Hiccup signed and turned his attention back to Eret. “You were saying?”

“We found a man washed up to shore,” Eret got to the point, also sensing the chieftain's stress. 

“You..what? Iven, were you missing any men after the attack?”

“Not that I was aware of. All were accounted for last I checked.” The bearded man replied. 

“Attack?” This must have been why Valka said it was urgent, Eret thought. It was worse than he had thought. “Hiccup, what happened?” 

The chief hastily filled him in on the situation and told him on the dragon-shifting creature who says she’s the daughter of the Red Death. Erika believed the Blood Knight to be possessing some sort of magic. The other chieftains weren’t quite convinced of the theory at first, but it was the only guess they had to go on that remotely made sense to them. 

Eret was more than shocked to hear the news. He had only heard stories about magic before his time on Berk, all of which were brushed as simply myths, but never had he heard of anything like this. 

“Well, He didn’t quite seem to be part of the Glacier tribe,” Eret explained, thinking back to what the man had looked like—no member of the northern tribe would’ve have been shivering like he had in Berkian waters—and how Snotlout had looked at the stranger with an expression he only wished could be directed at—no. He needed to focus. “My only other guess is maybe there was another attack nearby. I’m not sure.” 

“We don’t have time for guessing!” Iven looked like he was about to stab the table in front of him with his sword. “My people could ‘ave gotten killed because of that dragon—girl—whatever the hel it was. We're just sitting here like rocks guessing what to do next. We need a plan of action, and we need it now.”

“And a plan of action we will take, Iven,” Erika placed a hand on his shoulder and attempted to calm him down.”

“Erika’s right,” Hiccup spoke to the group. “We’re going to do something about this, but can’t rush into it blindly. For now, we just need to take what little information we already know and build what we do next from there.” 

“Doesn’t anyone else think it was weird that there were no injuries beyond minor wounds?” Magnus interjected. “I mean, bad guys with her power usually only leave  _ one _ messenger and kill the rest, right? Maybe she’s not as bad as we think.”

“This isn’t one of those fictional stories you like to write, Magnus,” Iven snapped. “She wanted to spread a message of revenge and fear, and she clearly delivered it.”

“No, maybe he’s right,” Hiccup interjected. “Like you said earlier, she looked like she was still a kid. Maybe we  _ can _ try to end this peacefully.”

Iven shook his head. “No, we can’t take the risk.” He said sternly.”Reasoning cannot be an option. She had at least a dozen other dragons the we could see when she attacked, and who knows how many more were in that fog. The last thing we need is another Drago Bludvist on our archipelago.” 

Hiccup visibly tensed from the name, and Iven instantly regretted his word choice. The other three chieftains knew they only had a glimpse of Drago’s destruction compared to the loss and internal blame the Berkian took.

“My apologies,” Iven began. A sharp tension drifted on the group of five. “I’m letting my anger get the best of me. I didn’t mean to—“

“No it’s okay.” Hiccup waved it off and began to shift in his chair, his face unreadable. “I just need to clear my head for a moment. Excuse me.” He stood up from his seat and drifted to the large doors of the great halls. Eret followed him outside. 

“You you know what happened with...you know, wasn’t you’re fault right?” Eret tried to comfort his friend. He knew he was also on the opposing side in the past—he still felt guilt about that—but he had changed his ways. 

“No, you’re right…” Hiccup agreed. “But there are still times when I wish he was still here.” Eret knew too well that he was talking about his father. “He would’ve been a better leader during times like these.”

“You’ve led us bravely countless times. You took us across the archipelago to a safer island, defeated dragon hunters, and even helped comfort everyone when the dragons departed.” 

Hiccup sighed. “But I just keep thinking that...whoever this girl is, she lost her mother because of Toothless and I all those years ago. A terrible, dragon-eating mother, sure, but still…”

“You didn’t know,” Eret assured him. “But can’t dwell on the past. Right now, your people are in trouble, and you need to think of any possible way to help them.” 

Hiccup felt forever thankful for his friend's advice and loyalty. “You’re right,” the chief nodded, “Thank you, Eret.” 

The two made it back to the table in the great hall. Magnus and Iven had already begun to argue while Erika attempted to mediate between them. All voices soon died down, though, as soon as their eyes noticed Hiccup had made it back. 

Hiccup sat back down in his chair, while the other three waited for what he had to say. The Viking began to lead the conversation in a calm but authoritative manner that would have made Stoik the Vast proud.

“Here’s what I think we should do…”

* * *

Hookfang woke up hazily to the all so familiar sound of his human snoring...Why must he be so loud when he slept…? Well..at least it wasn’t like quiet wimpers that accompanied the other’s occasional nightmares..Those were never pleasant for either of the two... 

The sleepy dragon, who’s somnolent mind didn’t fully register his new changes and setting, half heartedly tried to lightly flick his tail at the human. The movement was usually enough to cause a small grumble and a following silence. The mild snoring, however, only continued. Huh, Hookfang thought drowsily, did his tail even move…? The dragon-turned-human's brow furrowed. He tried again a few more times, but nothing happened...

Then suddenly everything clicked in his groggy consciousness.

He had no tail, now. He was a human. And Snotlout, the man who he had not seen for nearly two years, was close by.

Hookfang eyes snapped open, only to squeeze shut from the blinding blur of light around him. There was a soft material wrapped around him, and his new limbs flailed helplessly to break free. After a moment of struggling, he managed to sit himself up on whatever lumpy service he was laying on. 

It took a few moments for his new eyes to finally adjust to the lighting of his surroundings, and he could finally see the room he was in. He seemed to be in the houses of one of the Vikings. It was a decently sized room, probably big enough to even fit him as a dragon. 

Everything in the room seemed much bigger that it would’ve if he were still a dragon. He sat in the middle of three thin beds that stood in a row against one wall. On the opposite walls was a long desk with an array of various plants, bottles, and other medical supplies he had seen Vikings use to heal one another. A small fireplace was burning on the adjacent wall to the beds. Hookfang found himself staring at the flames for a moment and his eyes seemed to glow in the soft light before continuing their search for the source of the snoring. 

Hookfang’s chest seemed to flame in a strange way as his eyes landed on his human. Snotlout was slumped in a small wooden chair beside the bed. His human’s horned helmet he always wore tipped forward, covering most of his eyes from view. He smiled warmly at the Viking and craned his head forward to get a better view of him, but his view was suddenly blocked when a long clump of fire colored hair fell in his face.  _ His _ hair…

He looked down as himself, his human self. It felt so surreal.. The blanket he had been wrapped in rested at his hip now, and he could only stare at his bare torso—his human torso! He moved his arms and wingless shoulders slowly, which caused a dull ache to flare lightly over them. 

His eyes noticed dark inked patterns along his left arm that matched the dark marking that had once lined his wings perfectly. He lifted the bend of his arm up and down slowly to view the tattoo better and, almost instinctly, traced the markings with a shaky hand. Unlike his scales, the skin felt almost soft to the touch. This new anatomy felt so strange and unfamiliar to him.

Hookfang then studied his hands. They looked so smooth and defenseless compared to the scaly claws he was used to. Next, he clumsily tried touching his face. It felt just as smooth as his hands, minus the small patch around his jaw and chin was barely starting to sprout hair. It also felt flat and unbalanced without the usual roundness of his snout. He ran a his fingertips over his scalp, and he soon found several clumps of his hair to be caked in dried sand—

“I see someone’s awake then.” a feminine voice reached his ears, snapping Hookfang out of his observations. It spoke in the humanspeak dragons had come to understand. ”That makes one of you, I guess.” There was a motherly giggle. “Snotlout, here, hasn’t left your side since he carried you here with his friend.”

Hookfang recognized the woman who entered the room to be Hiccup’s mother. In past times, there was no dragon who lived on Berk who disliked her and the fondness and motherly attitude she had towards them. 

“Snot..lout..” Hookfang wanted the name of his human the first thing he spoke, and he glanced for a moment back to his human. It felt so clumsy and foreign on his new tongue compared to the rumbles and growls that made up dragonspeak, yet it felt exhilarating to finally communicate with humans without an exhausting use of motions and body language. 

Some sort of association flickered behind Valka’s eyes. The woman’s gaze shifted to the pattern tattoo on his arm then, to the rest of him, then to the human sleeping in the wooden chair, but Hookfang had no clue where her mind had flickered to

“Where…am I..?” Hookfang slowly did his best to form the words. He, like most dragons, had heard and understood the human language for most of his life but could never speak it himself. It simply wasn't built for the vocal cords of dragons, just like dragonspeak was hardly built for the throat of humans. The closest any dragon could recall to a human speaking their language was Drago Bluvist, who constantly yelled orders to the Bewilderbeast he controlled. No one dared acknowledge the man allowed, though. 

Hookfang shook the thought from his mind. He hated thinking about the time he was controlled fully by another dragon. The Bewilderbeast, of course, had freed himself from Drago’s commands and found his way to the realm of dragons, but very few dragons who migrated from Berk,  _ especially _ Toothless, spoke to him more than necessary. 

“You’re on Berk, well, New Berk,” the woman spoke. “I am Valka, and Snotlout, here”—he motioned to the sleeping chair—“had found you washed up on our shores…” There was something behind her eyes that seemed like she wanted to say something more, but it fell short as Snotlout shifted in his chair and mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. 

The man’s helmet fell backwards from his head and hit the floor with a loud metal  _ clang _ . Snotlout jolted awake. 

“I’m up, Dad, I’m up!” He yelled almost instinctively before talking in his surroundings. His frightened expression twisted into a calm embarrassment. 

Hookfang tensed a bit and frowned. He knew very well of the waking methods his human’s father had used frequently when his son slept in too late for his liking. In the past years he lived with his rider, though, he had come very close to lighting Spitelout ablaze—if only the older man hadn’t incredible dodging skills—when he tried to walk into the room to forcefully wake his son with the clank of a hammer and shield. For the rest of the time he had lived with his rider, Hookfang made sure he had a good night's rest as much as the human could. 

Silently, the two’s eyes met. Snotlout had never seen irises like the man in front of him. They were a deep brown mixed with a golden amber color, and he couldn’t seem to look away. He felt so inexplicably drawn to them, so strangely safe and protected by them. There was a small sense of similarity in them that the viking couldn't trace to. After all, he had never seen the man before he spotted him on the beach.

The sound of one clearing their throat reached the pair’s ears, and the two looked over to Valka, who was still standing in front of them. Hookfang felt his face strangely heat up for a moment and reached a hand to feel it.The nearby fire didn’t seem close enough to have caused it...He noticed a slight red hue on Snotlout’s face too. 

“Nice of you to join us,” Valka chuckled softly at the awoken viking before turning her attention back to Hookfang. “And what is your name?” she asked. 

_ “You cannot directly tell anyone of your real identity or else the spell will falter and break.” _

_ “One can only know who you truly are on their own.” _

The Enchantings words rang in Hookfangs mind. Only now did he fully understand what she had ment. He couldn’t them his true name. 

Hookfang mentally cursed. What was he supposed to tell them then? He didn’t think to add that into his insane plan, but they probably wouldn’t have believed the now red-haired man if he said he was once a monstrous nightmare, anyways.

An echo of a name flickered through his memories. One no dragon had called him by since his capture and imprisonment the Vikings years ago.

“It’s..Red...mare...” he coughed a bit, clearing his throat. “My name is Redmare.” He never thought he’d ever use the name again. 

Similar to other dragon riders, Snotlout, not knowing anything of the dragon’s past, had named him Hookfang, and his previous name was forgotten. Hookfang instantly took a strong liking to the name. It wasn’t cute or weak-sounding, and still held a respect and fear. For then on, he discarded his former title and the past that came with it. That is, until now.

“Redmare…” Valka tested the name for herself, and Hookfang could tell there was still something unspoken on her mind. “That’s quite an interesting name..” 

Snotlout still found himself starting at the man’s—Redmare’s eyes. A strange emotion seemed to explode inside him, but he couldn’t find the name for it. There was a giddiness inside him, almost like he just met a long lost friend or family member, and an awestruck feeling that made his stomach twist in knots. With each passing second, it felt more overwhelming, yet he couldn't get himself away from the beautiful, painfully familiar man he hadn’t even spoken a single word to.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He all but jumped out of his chair and nearly bolted to the door to leave and fumbled to pull the handle open.

“Sorry, I gotta leave. I’ll catch up with you guys later. Bye.” He blurted out quickly before running out the door and nearly slamming it shut. 

Once outside, he leaned his back against the rough wood and took a deep breath of fresh air. Whatever emotion that stuck him was already waning from him, but a ghost of it still seemed to haunt him. He rested his hands against his head. 

“What’s happening to me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up a little longer than I planned. Hope you enjoyed it! :D 
> 
> So I’m thinking of adding Magnus a little more into the story. I don’t think it would be too much, but I know some people prefer more canon characters in fics. Let me know what you think about that or anything else if you want.
> 
> What does Valka know? What plans will Hiccup take? Will Snotlout finally understand emotions?  
> Find out in the next chapter!


	4. Past Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dragon adjusts to his new form. A Viking relives a distant memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Another chapter brought to you by trash who has too much time on his hands. 
> 
> Big thanks to Igma and another guest for the kudos. As always, it is very much appreciated! :)
> 
> Just a quick note first:  
> There’s a few parts of this chapter that are loosely inspired by another fic called “Unbecoming” by sarahenany, so big credit to them. 
> 
> Also a mild warning for mentions of abuse in this chapter, but it’s very brief. 
> 
> But other than that, there’s the next chapter. Happy readings!

“You did  _ what _ !?” Toothless roared, outraged by what the Enchantwing confessed what she had done with Hookfang. 

“I understand you may be angry, my king,” the elder calmly spoke. 

“Angry is an understatement!” His growls echoed across the walls of the cave. 

“There is no need for shouting. Would you please calm yourself and let me first explain for myself?” 

Toothless stared at her, and slowly the slit pupils of his yellow-green eyes slowly eased along with his heavy breathing. After a short moment, the night fury calmed himself and seated himself over the luminous grass.

“I’m sorry, Enchantwing. I shouldn’t have roared,” he admitted. “I trust whatever reason you have, but you understand it is my duty to protect every dragon of the realm, no matter the form they take.” 

“I do understand,” the Enchantwing nodded. “But I must inform you that I was hatched into this world with a duty as well, and do you know of what that duty may be, my king?” 

Toothless shook his head. He had known very little of the Enchanwing’s origin and past. The only thing he was sure of was that her amber eyes had seen kingdoms rise and fall and that the magic she practiced flowed like mist through her aging scales. 

“My kind was born with a gift,” she began to explain. “We were born to see the wishes and desires of the world and, if we found them pure enough, make the wishes reality.” Her expression fell for a moment. “That is why we were hunted down and captured centuries ago. There were many humans who wanted their evil and twisted wishes to be granted. And that is why I may be the last of my kind, something you may possibly emphasize with...” 

The last few words rang too deep in Toothless. He knew exactly of the hopelessness it felt to know that there was no other dragon of your kind in the world. Finding Light was a major chance of luck, and he would be eternally grateful for the joys she has given him. 

The Enchanwing continued, “I saw your own desire grow within you over the length since you’ve become king here, and what you wished was simple enough to grant. You only wanted to know if the Viking Chieftain was safe and happy.” She smiled at the wholesome thought. “But never had I seen a yearning so bright as the flame-scale’s. It was nearly blinding, my king. I saw it shimmering, so pure and untouched by anything twisted or corrupt, and the dragon didn’t even know it.” 

Toothless lowered his head in thought. He knew Hookfangs missed his rider, just like nearly every dragon who was brought to the realm from Berk had, but he had never expected the dragon’s longing to be so strong. “So what do you think I should do, then?” The night fury asked. 

“If you command me to, I will step down and reverse what I’ve done and return your friend, but know this: stopping what I have done stops my duty as a wish-giver and it will also halt Hookfang’s wish.” 

Toothless exhaled slowly. It would crush him to hurt the other two dragons like that.

“He can stay.” 

* * *

  
Snotlout left, and Hookfang had a strong feeling it was because of him. Any other time, he would’ve probably been amused at the gawking expression the Viking had moments before running out the door. Now, however, knowing the expression was pointed at him, a hint of sadness ripped through the dragon-turned human. Was his former rider scared of him? Not that he minded any other human fearing him—he rather liked that. Just not  _ his _ human. He would’ve probably tried to run after him if he knew how to operate his new human legs. 

Before he could realize it, his lips formed the question to the healer next to him. “Was he okay?” There was a bit of desperation in his voice that he didn’t like hearing from himself.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Valka tried to assure the redhead. “Just not used to new people is all.”

Hookfang felt there was a little more to it, but he did feel somewhat assured to say the least. The older woman drifted closer to him and, to his surprise, placed the back of her hand over his forehead. Hookfang’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he slowly worked to move his arms to push the hand away. 

Valka noticed his discomfort and removed her hand before he could for her. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she apologized. “You just still feel like you have a fever, which is strange because you seem healthy as a yak.” 

What did yaks have to do with health? Hookfang shrugged the comment off. “I feel just fine,” he commented, which was an understatement. He felt great. He could finally see his rider again, and can look after the muttonhead like he had before. Well, not exactly like before…

“Well, then,” Valka’s voice took him out of his forming thoughts. “We should probably get you cleaned up. There’s still quite a bit of sand stuck to you.” She left the room for the moment and came back with a towel for Hookfang to wrap around his waist.

Something as easily as standing on his own felt useless in his human form. He felt like a fledgling again, struggling to learn how to fly while watching all the other nestmates his age do it with ease. Embarrassment quickly took over him as his shaky new legs gave out on his first attempt, causing him to stumble backwards into the bed. 

“It’s no trouble for me to help you,” Valka offered, wanting to help the stubborn man beside her. 

Hookfang shook his head and tried again, his time leaning against the headboard of the bed for balance. How did humans do this all day? His weight felt awkward on two legs without the usual counterweight of his wings. 

Another thought came to him. He could no longer fly anymore. Hookfang brushed it off. If it meant being able to comfort his human again, he’d give his wings up again in a heartbeat. 

After a few more embarrassing minutes of stumbling, he finally gave in to the healer helping him. He placed an arm over her shoulder, and leaned against her as needed for balance. Keeping his eyes to the ground, he clumsily mimicked the other’s leg moment he took his first steps as a human. together, they slowly made their way to a small tub in a nearby room, where the once warm water had already cooled off.

“It would’ve been warm if you had let me help you from the start,” Valka commented lightly like a mother scolding her child. She helped him into the tub, respectfully turning her head as he unwrapped the towel before sitting in the tub. The water was only lukewarm, but it felt nice on Hookfang’s new skin. 

“I’ll just leave you to it,” Valka said, turning to the door. “I’ll be in the next room if you need anything.” With that, she left. 

Hookfang stared at the closed door, at a complete halt on what to do. Was there a certain way humans bathed? From what he knew, it wasn’t too much different than dragons. About a year after the Red Death’s defeat, he had accidentally stumbled in on his rider in the tub while looking for him, but he quickly exited the room. The viking’s girly shrieks at the time were beyond amusing, though. 

He eventually settled on trying his best to scrub off the sand that had flaked to his body. He was surprised how much easier it was to wash off. Whereas scales took an endless nipping and scrubbing to remove anything that had gotten beneath them, the sand smoothly washed off of him in a single rinse. 

His new hair, however, was a much different story. Rinsing it only seemed to make the tangled mass stick to his face. It took an extra long moment to rinse and scrub all the clumped sand off the strands, and by the end of it, it was even more tangled than before that yanked his scalp every time he tried to run his finger through the fiery locks. He slicked the mess away from his face, not wanting to deal with it anymore. 

When he felt he was finally clean enough, Hookfang slowly attempted again to stand on his own in the tub. His balance was still wobbly if he didn’t focus enough on it, but it was much better than his few attempts. Valka had left a long piece of cloth draped over the lip of the tub to dry with when he was done. He took it and gently began to dry himself. 

The initial shock of his new body had already begun to die down, and slowly he understood more to how he moved as a human versus his former dragon self. His hands made it much easier to hold things rather than his claw or mouth. Standing on two legs was still a hassle, but he was quickly getting better at holding his balance. 

He shook his head much like a dog trying to shake the water out of its fur. It stood on awkward ends and was still very much tangled, but he decided to ignore it for now. After drying his top half, he managed to carefully step out of the water before moving to dry his lower half. He leaned against the tub to support himself as he did.

Now for the most part dry, Hookfang wrapped the cloth around his waist just like Valka had previously insisted on before he had gotten out of bed. He didn’t quite understand humans and their constant need to cover up—dragons never needed to wear clothes—but he felt it was probably best to blend in if he followed the woman’s requests. With a few shaky steps, he managed to slowly walk to the other room.

Valka was rather impressed by his quick retaining of balance as she heard him walk in. While the man had been bathing, she had gathered a small pile of clothing that she thought would fit him. 

“I think these clothes should fit you we...“—she turned to see the man’s hair had become beyond tangled—“...ell enough.” His long, red locks were a dripping mess that bunched and stuck out in certain places. The other gave her a confused look and Valka did all to contain herself from giggling at the mess. “And once you’re done we can work on that hair of yours.”

Clothing seems easy enough to put on, Hookfang thought. He had seen his human change from nightwear to daywear and back again on more than one occasion. Valka led him behind a small curtain to change, and for the most part, he managed to fit the clothing on with ease. The forest green tunic the woman had given him, however, was a much different story. He found himself tangled in the deadly contraption before asking Valka for help. Hookfang was thankful that she was beyond patient with him. The clothes felt scratchy, and rubbed at his skin uncomfortably. They seemed to restrict some of his movement as well, but he only huffed quietly from his disliking. 

He found himself shortly afterward sitting in the wooden chair Snotlout had taken a nap in earlier while Valka retrieved a hairbrush. The healer sat on the bed behind him and began to weave the bristles through his knotted strands. It yanked and pulled at his scalp painfully, and Valka muttered apologies as she continued.

“So  _ Redmare _ , do you mind telling me how you ended up on our shores?“ There was a stern motherly tone in her voice. The redhead thought that she and the Enchantwing would get along quite well. 

Hookfang tensed a bit. His mind raced for a believable story. “I...ran away.” It was true, he realized. He really did run away. 

“Ran away, hm?” She began to move the brush in smoother strokes now that the hair was much less knotted. 

“Yes,” he settled with his story. “There was...something my old home didn’t that I was trying to find for myself, so I left.” That was true for the most part and believable enough to work.

“So you magically found yourself here without a scrap of clothing?” 

“Yes,” that was exactly it, but a slightly raised eyebrow from the woman caused him to add in a few made up details. “I had a”—what did humans call it again?—“ship, and I was...bathing below its deck when a storm hit, and it sank.” 

There was a pause, and suddenly the woman bursted into a laugh. Her laughter was light and, surprisingly, showed no signs of anything negative from Hookfang’s poorly thought out explanation. “Is that the best story you could think of?” she asked calmly.

Hookfang gave her a nervous and confused look. “What do you mean?” 

Valka gave him a knowing smirk. “I have no idea how you did it, but I know it’s you, Hookfang.”

The redhead’s mouth gaped. As if reading his mind, the healer continued.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I’ve spent nearly twenty years of my life around dragons. I probably would’ve recognized one even if you had taken the form of a sheep instead.” She chuckled tenderly at the male. “And the way you looked at Snotlout said it all.” 

Hookfang relaxed a bit. She didn’t seem angry. like Toothless would probably be when he found out, more curious if anything. He should be able to tell her the truth without breaking the spell. After all, she already found out on her own, and the dragon-turned-human trusted her. 

“It was an Enchantwing,” Hookfang explained. “She’s the oldest of the realm—the Hidden World, and it’s believed that she’s the last dragon who practices magic.” He found himself confessing all that had happened before his arrival to New Berk. The crystal sphere he first saw with Toothless, the Enchantwing’s offer, the charmed fruit he ate, and the warning of how the spell would easily break if his true identity was confessed. Valka’s eyes stared at him in wonder, amazed at the story.

“As a child, I’d only heard legends of magic, yet here I am, seeing it right before my eyes.” Valka placed the brush to the side and began to gently part the man's hair in different places and lead them over each other into the beginning of a loose braid. “Your secret is safe with me, I promise you. I can see why she granted your wish, though. You and Snotlout have a true bond with one another.” 

Bond. The word seemed to take a different view in Hookfangs new form. If he was no longer a dragon with his rider, then what was he now?

Valka finished weaving the last bit of hair and tied a thin strand of cloth at its end to hold it. “Much better than whatever you did to it before,” she muttered, but there was no edge to it. She stood up and handed Hookfang a small mirror. “What do you think?”

The whole reality of the situation hit Hookfang like a wave so hard he almost dropped the mirror in his hand. A face, a sharp, slightly stubbled  _ human _ face, reflected back at him. He moved a hand to touch his cheek, and the reflected man followed. He opened his mouth and traced his now dulled teeth with his tongue. His hair was now tied away from his face in a loose braid, save a few loose strands. His eyes were the only familiar thing to him. They glowed a deep amber color, much similar to how they had been before. It was so surreal, and he didn’t know exactly he should feel about it.

“It must be strange, isn’t it?” Valka wondered, and Hookfang wordlessly nodded. He heard the healer shift behind him and saw her standing up again from the corner of his eye.“You must be starving by now. Dinner should just about be ready in the Great Hall. How about we go? I have a good feeling we may find Snotlout there, too. It’s the only place people really ever see him these days.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, he’s been quite the recluse for these last few months. From what Hiccup and Astrid have mentioned to me, he seems to miss you as much as you do him.” 

The same feeling Hookfang had when he saw his human cold and alone in the crystal sphere twisted inside him, but this time he didn’t feel so helpless from it. This was his chance to help Snotlout, to comfort him and protect him. 

He took one last look in the mirror before steadily following Valka out the door. 

* * *

After abruptly leaving Valka’s residents, Snotlout hiked back to his main spot along the cliffs. 

He sat at the edge of the rock, and began to swing his legs slightly along the edge. There was still a small breeze that drifted from the nearby ocean, and the soothing smell of salt water reached his nose. 

Redmare…

The name seemed fit the man to say the least. 

Snotlout shifted his back against the faded scorch marks of the cold rock and looked to the clear blue sky. He should’ve taken his coat with him to dry out here. It was still with the stranger and Valka in her hearler’s room. Then again, Valka would take care of it and probably even wash off the bits of sand before returning it. 

The sound of waves roaring below him reached his ears. The squawk of a few seabirds nearby broke through the breeze. It was peaceful, and Snotlout took a deep breath of fresh air as he found himself thinking of past times...

  
* * * 

New Berk looked much differently two years ago than it did now. Before the large wooden houses and buildings, the village consisted of quickly built tents in its first few days before the dragons departed. Within the first night, Snotlout and Hookfang had settled on the small rocky clearing along the coastal cliffs of the island. They silently agreed there wasn’t any real need for a tent yet. It was a clear night and the stars glimmered brightly overhead, a view any type of shelter would prevent from seeing .

Snotlout had to leave the spot for a few hours and hike down to the others, since his father sternly insisted earlier that he helped build the Jorgensen tent next to the rest of the Vikings. He had apparently arrived later too late for Spitelout’s liking, and the younger’s attempts of assisting turned out to be not as helpful as he had wanted.

“You call  _ this _ a tent?” The older man had nearly growled. “I’ve seen Thorstons build better shelters.” 

Snotlout apologized and quickly worked to fix it. He took apart nearly all of what the parts he had worked on and repositioned them to be stronger and sturdier, yet it still wasn’t to his father’s liking. 

The third attempt that followed was the final straw. 

“You think it is a game, boy-o?” Spitelout snapped, yanking at the scruff of the young man’s tunic. He waved a coil of rope roughly in front of the other’s face. “How hard is it to build something as simple as  _ this _ ?”

Snotlout took the hits that followed like a man—he didn’t dare return them—and stumbled back to the cliffs a short while later. 

Hookfang had startled awake at the sound of his uneven footsteps crunching against the scattered sticks and stones across the ground. He gave a worried and questioning look at his rider, who’s arms clenched around his torso, and a rumble of concern rippled through the dragon's throat. 

“I’m fine, Hooky,” the Viking unwrapped one of his arms to wave him off. “I just tripped on the walk over.” Lies like these were a reflex to him. 

The dragon’s eyes narrowed, and he swiftly moved his head closer to Snotlout, nudging his arms away from his ribs. 

“Hey! Stop it!” He tried pushing the other away, but the monstrous nightmare easily overpowered him. Sharp teeth clenched the bottom of his tunic, yanking it upwards to see whatever damage he had. 

“Hookfang stop—!“ it was too late. In one swift movement, his tunic was in tatters, and the dragon stared at his bruising ribs. Hookfang was smart, the young man knew. He had seen the wounds his father had inflicted on him many occasions before, and he could put two and two together easily. 

Hookfang’s eyes widened at the forming bruises, and he took a step back from his rider before bursting into flames in anger. Snotlout was familiar with the outbursts, and always tried his best to calm him down, but this was one of the worst he had delt with. 

The dragon was actually  _ pacing _ back and forth, and the tongues of flames from his scales charred the rocky ground beneath him. He boomed out a series of growls and roars, almost like he was ranting or lecturing, that Snotlout couldn’t decipher no matter how hard he tried. 

It took about half an hour before he could calm his dragon down enough to extinguish himself. The ground beneath them was completely scorched by then, and he could feel its heat moving through the soles of his boots, but he didnt care. Over the years, he had become used to the flaming temperatures. 

“I said I’m fine, really,” he assured the other, He gently placed a hand on Hookfang's snout, to which the dragon closed his eyes and leaned gently into the touch. It was very similar to when the Viking had first bonded to the monstrous nightmare back in the dragon arena with Hiccup, and he soon discovered it was the best way to relax him. “I just didn’t couldn’t build a tent right...” 

It was then his turn to rant to the other. He never knew for sure Hookfang could truly understand him, but from the first few months or so that they had first flown together, he quickly fell into a habit of confessing his troubles to the other.

He told Hookfang all his secrets, many which the other had probably already figured out for himself. His dragon comforted him on the many times he cried when others weren’t around or when he was shaken awake from nightmares in the middle of the night. He was there when the human first had his crisis of whether he was attracted to men, women, or both. The dragon had seen it all and was the only one, Snotlout had later realized, he had ever truly been open with.

Snotlout told of what happened with the tent, and how he struggled to build his section to his father’s expectations. As he continued on, the two found themselves laying against each other on the darkly scorched rock, which had already begun to cool down. The young man sat with his back against the dragon's side, his legs laid out in front of him. 

“I just wish I was a good enough son for him, you know?,” the ranting was starting to come to a conclusion as Snotlout let out a yawn. 

Hookfang, who had been giving him his full attention the entire time, gave him a look that Snotlout could’ve sworn looked like empathy. The dragon gently nudged the top of his snout against his head, as if trying to assure him that he  _ was _ a good enough Viking. 

The human shivered some through his tattered tunic and Hookfang swiftly came to his rescue by wrapping his body and tail a little more around him. His scales smooth and warm, and like all the other times couple of times he had snuggled against him at night, Snotlout felt like he was being wrapped protectively in a scaly blanket of sorts.

He snuggled closer to his dragon. He always felt so at ease against the warm scales.

“You know, when we first met, I never would’ve taken you for the cuddling type. I think you’ve gone a little soft.” The Viking chuckled. 

A short rumble erupted from Hookfang, and the dragon rolled his eyes. A tail smacked Snotlout’s helmet.

“Ow! Okay, okay. You’re still all tough and scary,” 

There was a soft growl of agreement from the dragon. Snotlout smiled softly and gently placed a hand on top of the scaly head that relaxed on top of his knees, lightly petting the red-orange scales. He received a quiet purring noise in response. 

Two pairs of eyes looked up to the vast array of stars overhead, and Snotlout, as he sometimes did as he cuddled with his dragon after an emotional talk, began to hum a melody that his mother used to sing to him as a child. The lyrics soon reached his lips, and he sang softly to Hookfang.

“ _ The sky is dark and the hills are white _

_ As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night _

_ And this is the song the storm-king sings, _

_ As over the world his cloak he flings: _

_ ’Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep’ _

_ He rustles his wings and gruffly sings _

_ ’Sleep, little one, sleep.... _ ’”

* * *   
  


The sun was beginning to fall when Snotlout snapped out of his trance and returned to the present. Dinner would be served soon in the great hall, and he decided to finally leave his small hideout and return to the village. 

Oh course, though, he had to find his father waiting for him just outside the tall oak doors.

“Son, we need to talk.” Spitelout said firmly.

Snotlout was frightened of what he had to say. He knew that any “talk” with his father was never a good thing. He was led inside along the far walls, away from nearby ears. 

Spitelout jabbed a finger at his son, causing the viking to Viking to flinch. “I’ve had enough of this reclusive nonsense, boy-o,” he spoke angrily. “It’s been humiliating to see you ruin the family name like this, and I’ve had to hold our reputation alone for long enough.”

Snotlout tensed at the words. ”I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized. “I’ll do better, I’ve just—“

“And I’ve had enough of your excuses.” Spitelout gritted his teeth. “You’re only being an embarrassment to both me and yourself.”

Suddenly, his father twisted his tunic in a fist and yanked him closer, making sure he had full attention of what he had to say next. The next words hit him harder than the first.

“That dragon you miss so much has already forgotten about you by now. It’s time you’ve forgotten about it too.”

The younger man stood frozen and stared at the older with wide eyes. He didn’t want to think about it, but he knew his father was probably right. It’s been nearly two years. Even after everything they’ve been through, why would Hookfang even think of him when he’s having the time of his life in the Hidden World? 

“It’s about time you step up as a man and do something useful like finding a wife. You’ve been moping over nothing for long enough. For once in your worthless life, make me proud to call you my son!”

Those words didn’t hit Snotlout as much as most might expect. He knew very well that he always lacked what it took to be a great Viking, and his father never seemed to miss a moment to remind him of it. He submissively nodded, and Spitelout let go of his top and took a step back. 

“ _ Forget _ about the dragon,” Spitelout repeated. “ _ Don’t _ continue to disappoint me.” With that, he turned and walked away and exited the great hall. 

Snotlout took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and forced them not to water, unaware of the amber eyes that had witnessed the scene from afar. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snotlout would totally sing to Hookfang.  
> The song is “Norse Lullaby.” I found it online a while back and I just had to use it somewhere in this story. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter will be posted soon!


	5. Clumsy Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The question “how are you?” gets tossed around a bit. More accidental staring contests also ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muchas gracias to the new guests for the kudos! 
> 
> I was having a bit of a tough time writing this chapter , especially with dialogue, but hopefully it sounds smooth enough while you guys read it.

It took most of the day, but the four chieftains eventually agreed to a plan in response to the Red Knight’s attack.

It was decided that all ports on Berk would be closed until further notice, minus a view selected fisherman who would sail close enough to the island for lookouts on land to keep a safe eye on them.

They would announce the plan to the rest of New Berk at dawn, where Hiccup, Iven, Magnus, and a small group of volunteers would also set sail with a group of volunteers to the last spot where the dragon-girl attacked. It was a few days journey by ship, depending on the winds and current, Iven had told him, but Hiccup felt it would be worth the wait.

Astrid, however, wasn’t too pleased when she heard the news. “No.” She shook her head. ”That’s a horrible plan, you can’t just  _ leave _ .”

“It’s me she wants, Astrid. You heard Iven. If she really is controlling other dragons, we can’t risk her bringing them here to look for me.”

“Then I’m going with you.” Hiccup had always loved her for her determination, but he shook his head. 

“We need you here protecting the village.” He didn’t want to think about it, but if something bad  _ were _ to happen to him, he would never forgive himself if his wife had also gotten hurt or worse because he had let her join him. He trusted Astrid wholeheartedly to lead her people even, if by unfortunate chance, it was without him. 

He would make sure it never came to that chance, though. 

“What if she doesn't listen to you? What if she’s just like her mother?”

“We won’t know until we at least try.”

By the sound of it, the Red Knight still seemed young. In his life, he had seen the redemption of many who he once considered enemies. It  _ was _ possible. Maybe it’s not too late to explain to her why he and Toothless did what they did. 

A worried thought suddenly shot through Hiccup. What if she got to Toothless? The thought shook him through his very bones. But she couldn’t have, he tried to reassure himself. Toothless is beyond capable of defending himself. He’s fought a bewilderbeast before for crying out loud. The chief calmed down at that thought.

Astrid still wasn’t fully convinced. She continued to tell him anything else that could possibly go wrong, and her expression grew more worried as she continued her list.

In an attempt to calm her, Hiccup took her hand in his. “I’ll be fine. I have a good feeling we can work this out. We’ll be back before the next full moon. I promise.” He gently kissed her forehead. 

It seemed to do the trick. Astrid gripped his hand, her worries diminishing some. “Don’t do anything stupid out there,” a ghost of a smile reached her lips.

“I won’t,” Hiccup chuckled softly. “I’ll do something crazy instead.” Astrid’s laugh was all he needed to feel assured. 

The young chief exited the great hall to begin packing for the trip shortly afterwards. A cool afternoon breeze greeted him outside, and the man let out a sigh as he looked to the nearby buildings and homes. The village had grown so much since their first night on this new island, and Hiccup was so proud of their quick adaptations.

A short ways down the gravel trail, he noticed his mother waking towards the hall. Next to her was a tall, red haired man he had never seen before. That must be the man Eret mentioned earlier, he guessed.

“Hiccup,” Valka’s face bursted into a warm smile as she saw her son, and she pulled him into a quick hug. Hiccup instantly felt the edge he had for most of the day dissipate away by his mother’s touch. As she unwrapped her arms from him, she then motioned to the man beside her. “This is Redmare. His trading ship was struck by a terrible storm, and he washed ashore here this morning. I’m sure Eret might’ve mentioned him when he met with you.” 

“He has.” Hiccup studied the man. He wondered if it wasn’t a storm that had sunk the man’s ship’s..if he really was a man…

He shook his head, quickly regretting the though. After hearing about the Red Knight, he wasn’t sure what to believe. What he did know, though, is that there was something strange about the taller man. He didn’t know exactly what it was, buthe sensed there was something his mother’s omitted to tell him about the stranger. 

“Welcome to New Berk.” He politely said to him. “I’m Hiccup, the, well, chief here.” Even after a little over three years with the title, it still felt awkward to say it outloud. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.” He made a mental note to talk to some shipbuilders for the other before he left tomorrow.

“Thank you,” Redmare gave a nod in respect before his stomach roared an echoing grumble. 

Valka chuckled and urged him to go into the great hall for some food, to which he hesitantly complied. The man’s legs wobbled slightly as he walked into the building. Hiccup guessed he was still recovering to walk properly

It was just him and his mother now. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Hiccup could see something unsaid that lurked on her expression.

“How have you been?” Valka broke the forming silence. “You were in quite a rush when you visited earlier.” 

“I’ve been better.” He had been hugely panicked earlier when he was searching for Eret when the day began, so much he realized he never informed his mother of what was happening. “Iven was attacked on his voyage here.”

Valka’s eyes widened, and Hiccup could blame her. The Glacier chief earned his “Icemaster” name for a reason. No one dared to strike him without fearing the consequences. 

“Really? By whom?”

He began to inform her of the current events, retelling the story of the dragon who shifted into a dragon-girl hybrid and wished for revenge. “You've known dragons longer than I have. Have you ever heard something like this before?” 

Valka hesitated. Hookfang and his new form came into her mind, but Hiccup didn’t know that she made a promise that she wouldn’t tell anyone about the newly turned human’s true identity. He didn’t want to risk breaking the spell he had, and the healer respected his request.

“No. I’ve never heard of a shapeshifter like his before.” A wave of guilt swept over her heart, but she knew it was necessary. She hoped her son would understand and forgive her lies when the time came. ”It sounds like that of magic, though,” she added as an attempt to ease her bluffs.

Hiccup nodded, thinking it over for a moment. Their silence returned, and his mind then found itself drifting back to the new stranger and his...well, strangeness. “Do you trust him? Redmare?” He asked his mother cautiously.

“I see no reason not to,” Valka answered honestly.

“There’s something off about him. Good or bad, I don’t know.”

Valka placed a light hand against his shoulder. “Hiccup, I can assure you. There are no ill intentions from that...man, if that’s what you mean.” 

The chief trusted his mother's judgment, and knew as far as he had known her, she had never been wrong about a person’s true character. “Okay. Thank you, mom.”

“Of course, my son,” she smiled.

They continued talking for a while until the sun had fully set overhead—it at its early stages of decline when their conversation began—and a quiet dark swept across the island. It was then that they decided to say their goodbyes. They parted ways, Valka following Redmare’s path into the great hall and Hiccup continuing his walk across the village.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a rustle in a small patch of berry bushes nearby. The young man quickly turned to the noise, and out of the corner of his eye, he could’ve sworn he saw a shadow of something scurry deeper into the nearby woods. 

He cautiously took a closer take in the direction, searching for any potential dangers, but saw nothing more. He gave a small shrug. It was likely just the nearby wildlife, he guessed, and knowing he had a lot of packing to do before his journey in the morning, he resumed his walk home. 

* * *

Hookfang barely stepped foot in the great hall when he caught sight of Snotlout and his father a short ways from him. A low growl escaped from his throat. How  _ dare _ that excuse for a man lay even a  _ finger _ on his human! 

The redhead was all too aware of the damage the older man had done, to both his son and others...and whatever he had been saying to Snotlout, the former rider’s expression fell more and more by each word. 

The Viking’s mask of a smile as the two shortly parted was clear as day to Hookfang.

This was his chance, Hookfang realized. He was no longer watching his human from a helpless distance like he had with Toothless. He could protect his human, and not only that, he swiftly realized, he could even  _ speak _ to him.

He thought back to all the times in the distant past when he tried to get the muttonhead to understand that he was so much more than what his terrible excuse of a father said about him...

Hookfang quickly took a plate of food before rushing to the man’s side.

  
  
  


It took a moment for Snotlout to finally calm himself down. For a fleeting moment, he was stuck where he stood, stunned by his father's so-called “talk” with him, before he finally decided to hold a grin and grab a plate of food. Lucky for him, a good part of the hall was empty, and a handful of unoccupied tables were at his choosing so he wouldn't be seen if his eyes decided to betray him and start to water again. He refused to let anyone see that moment of weakness. There was only one who had trusted enough to, and he was gone. 

He dropped his plate of cooked fish and greens at the farthest empty table of the room. The spot was nearly reserved to him at this point, since he sat there nearly every time he chose to eat in the great hall. 

His fork hadn’t even reached his food when he heard a voice across from him.

“Can I sit here?” Redmare stood on the other side of the table. The stranger looked much better compared to his condition a few hours ago. Snotlout also couldn’t help but notice that he held his plate in probably the most awkward position human hands possibly could. 

Their eyes locked for a moment, and once again Snotlout felt entranced by the amber irises. 

He quickly forced himself to break the contract before it got any worse. 

He kept his gaze strictly on his food. “Uh, yeah. Sure.” 

In the corner of his eye, Redmare nodded and clumsily dropped his plate on the table before taking a seat on the bench. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Snotlout forced a scoff. Like it was of the other’s business. “Yeah, duh. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I saw you talking to yo—“ the stranger stopped himself. ”—to that man over there.” 

Snotlout quickly faked a grin, something, not to brag, but he pretty much mastered over the years. “Yeah, that was just my Dad telling me how proud he was of me for being an amazing son.” He might’ve gone a little too far with that lie, but he stood firm by it nonetheless. The other was a stranger to him, so he wouldn’t even notice. 

The red haired man shot him a look of skepticism that Snotlout could have sworn he had seen somewhere else before. The look seemed to see right through him “It didn’t seem like that. You were...hurt by whatever he said.” 

He spoke confidently, as if he had seen if before, but how the  _ hel _ could he have known that? Last time Snotlout checked, his “everything is fine” act was nearly always on point. Few people seemed to notice or, at least, considered its faults. Even then, those select few were solely people like Hiccup or Astrid who had known him for  _ years _ . He suddenly felt exposed under the other's gaze, and embarrassment of what the other could speedily began to bubble inside him. 

“Well, it’s none of your business,” Snotlout snapped. Who did this guy think he was? “Look, I don’t know where you’re from, but here, we don’t just waltz up to ask people about their relationships with their family.” Where was he from anyways...? 

Redmare lowered his head in what seemed like regret and confusion before shifting in his chair. “I’m sorry.” From the way he spoke it, Snotlout could tell he rarely said those words.

There was a pause. Snotlout sighed and his anger immediately extinguished itself. He should be bothered by him—the last thing he wanted was pity from a stranger—but, for some peculiar reason, he couldn’t under Redmare’s gaze. He looked so genuinely concerned, and Snotlout didn’t understand why. 

“I just don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Especially with some guy I don’t even know…” He began to dig into his food, unaware of the hurt that crossed the redhead’s face for a moment. 

Hookfang shook the feeling away. Snotlout was right. The newly-turned human knew nearly everything about him, but, even as a dragon, the Viking didn’t know anything about him before his imprisonment in the dragon arena. In this form, he had the opportunity to tell him everything about himself.

But did he  _ want _ to tell the Viking about his past life?

“My father wasn’t the friendliest either,” The simple statement triggered memories that seemed to happen a lifetime ago, yet it still pained him to even mention a portion of it. Images swept in his mind. First of his father and his constant roaring fits when Hookfang was merely a hatchling, then of his mother, her courageous soul but gentleness toward him and his younger hatchmate. “ But the rest of my family was kind.” The memories overwhelmed his head like a broken dam. Their faces, their personalities, their deaths...One by one, all of them faded from him with a sharp clanking of metal, and Hookfang was snapped back into reality. His fists were clenched into themselves, and he noticed his breathing quickened a bit. “Now you know me a little more.” 

Snotlout could only watch as the mysterious man in front of him froze for a moment. Whatever moment he just relieved, it was not pleasant. He could see the mixed expressions of sorrow and guilt that flew across his face, and he wanted to ask him about it but knew otherwise. 

Reluctantly, Snotlout briefly confessed his troubles to the determined stanger. “There’s...something that happened a while ago, and I still haven’t gotten over it.” He started simply, dipping his fork into his food. “That’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

He watched as Redmare nodded at the compromise. There was still concern and questioning that glazed his eyes, but he didn’t push further. 

ense silence washed over them, and Snotlout decided to return to eating. His food was growing cold now, but he was too hungry to complain. He quickly dug in and nearly vacuumed half his food before he noticed the other man across from him was studying him with his fork held uncomfortably in a fist. Redmare began to stab his food in an attempt to mimic the other. 

Snotlout snorted, and spoke with a mouthful of food. “Do you not know how to use a fork?”

The redhead paused, debating his answer, and tried to shrug casually. “Where I’m from, we don’t use them to eat.” 

“Where  _ did _ you come from?”

Redmare kept his gaze to the food, not answering. It wasn’t uncommon to hear of distant tribes who didn’t use utensils, but Snotlout's curiosity about the man’s origins only peaked. When he realized he wouldn’t get an answer, he continued. 

“Okay then...” He held up his own fork in the usual manner, resting his elbow on the table. “First off, you’re holding it wrong.”

The redhead studied his hand and tried to mimic him, only to end up stumbling with his own fingers. The fork fell to the table with a clang. Snotlout should have been annoyed, but instead he found himself holding in a small laugh. It was like the guy didn’t know how to use his own hands.

“Here.” Snotlout picked up the fork and placed it back into the other man’s hand. Before he knew it, he was adjusting Redmare’s fingers to hold the utensil properly. “Like this.” 

Their eyes met again and Snotlout found himself annoyingly entranced again by the bright amber color, and from the looks of it, Redmare was in the same situation. Amber met with blue, and the two became lost, not daring to move, their hands still brushing lightly against each other. They stayed frozen in place.

That is, until someone cleared their throat nearby. 

“Am I interrupting something..?” A voice asked awkwardly.

The Viking squeaked and quickly yanked his hands back to himself, nearly falling backward in the process. “Eret. Uh, Hey.” 

  
  
  


Moments earlier, Eret had been listening to Hiccup's plans of action until the chief left to prepare for his journey in the morning. He let the reality of the moment sink in. This wasn’t a human controlling a dragon, like he was unfortunately so familiar with, but a  _ dragon _ on their own will commanding other dragons. He had volunteered himself to go, and Hiccup allowed him, knowing that he had good knowledge of the seas from his earlier, less proud of, years working with Drago Bludvist.

He felt an arm drape over his shoulders and he was suddenly broken out of his thoughts. “So..it looks like we’re going to be boat buddies for a while then?” A voice spoke beside him. 

“I guess so.” Eret didn’t even need to look to his side to know the strands of strawberry blond hair in the corner of his eye belonged to Magnus Vulkanson.

The southern tribe chief smiled at his friend. “Other than all the crazy that’s been going on, how have you been? We haven’t hung out in a while.” 

Eret was about to answer, a familiar face moving near the tables caught his eyes. A warm smile spread his face as his gaze caught the familiar sight of Snotlout.

“Ugh, you still like Snotface?” Magnus’s voice almost sounded jealous.

Eret may have confessed that small detail at the last meeting of tribes a few moon cycles ago, which had been hosted on the island of the Tropikals, when he had found himself having one too many cups of mead following the gathering that night. He ended up pouring his emotions on Magnus, who just so happened to be the person sitting closest to him at the time. He thought himself lucky that it was the blond, who didn’t seem to have any problems with his attraction towards men, he had found himself talking to that night rather than someone less open minded to the topic. He had actually seemed happy about the news for reasons unknown to Eret.

“Snot _ lout _ ” he corrected the other. He didn’t really understand the man’s sudden disliking of the man. The blond didn’t seem to take any dislike towards him at first, but lately, he’d grown an unexplainable grudge against the shorter Viking. 

“Why  _ him _ , though? There are so many better looking guys out there...” Magnus muttered. 

“You’ve never even spoken a word to him before. There so much more to him than he seems at first glance,” Eret countered. 

Magnus sighed and deflated a bit against Eret, quickly giving up on his pointless protest. “Yeah. You're probably right.” He loosened his arm around Eret’s shoulders a bit. “You should probably tell him that you’re leaving tomorrow, though. There might not be any time in the morning.” 

“I will. Thank you, Magnus.” 

“Yeah, whatever, lover boy.” He threw Eret a playful smirk. Looking across the room, his expression shifted for a moment. His arm unwrapped itself from Eret’s shoulders, and he pointed to the man in question. “Better talk to him quick, though. Looks like you got some competition,” he added, and Eret jumped in surprise as he lightly slapped his backside, an odd goodbye, before making his way through the large wooden doors in the direction of the guest houses. Magnus was a strange man, but a good friend. 

“What do you—?” Eret’s face twisted in confusion for a moment until he spotted the braided red hair in front of the shorter viking. “..oh.”

And thus, Eret found himself breaking the bizarre staring contest the two seemed to be in. 

“We’ve never properly met.” He greeted the redhead man. “I am Eret. I was with Snotlout when we found you this morning.” 

“Redmare,” the other stated simply, not seeming very talkative towards him.

“Nice to meet you. I’m glad to see that you are well now.” Eret offered a small smile, which was not returned. This Redmare character only seemed to focus his attention towards the shorter Viking infront of him. Eret brushed off a strange sense of deja vu before shifting his attention to Snotlout. “Could we talk in private for a moment.” 

Snotlout took another bite of his food before answering. “Uh, yeah. Sure.” 

The two moved away from the table to the dimly lit wall of the great hall nearby. “Redmare” clumsily stabbed his food with his fork and began to eat his food, still keeping a close eye on the two. 

“You okay?” Snotlout asked once Eret and him were out of earshot. 

“I just wanted to say…” Eret’s voice trailed off for a moment. He didn’t know if he was imagining it or not, but it looked as if Redmare had been glaring between him and Snotlout for whatever reason. “Well, as you might’ve already heard, I’ll be leaving with Hiccup and a few others tomorrow morning for a while.”

“Wait, what? Why?” 

“It’s going to be explained to the rest of the village here first thing in the morning.” Eret shifted his footing a bit. ”I just wanted to say a proper goodbye in case I won’t be able to later.” 

Hookfang’s eyes narrowed between the two men. Last time he had known, they had always seemed to be engaged in a constant feud, yet they stood peacefully next to one another. Too close, actually...

The fork in his hands nearly slipped from his fingers—how did humans eat like this? Fish was so much easier to eat without these these—and his thoughts slipped to private confessions Snotlout had with his dragon-self long ago in the past. What if the two were…

No! He brushed the thought away. They couldn’t be mates. And even if they were, why should it matter to him. It’s been two years since he had left with the rest of the dragons. Of course his former rider would have moved on with…

His thoughts suddenly ran cold. What if what Valka had told him earlier was wrong, and what he saw in the sphere with Toothless and the Enchantwing wasn’t what he thought...What if he had already found another to protect him and keep him from the cold...

Hookfang’s eyes widened as Eret quickly wrapped his muscular arms around the shorter vinking before eventually leaving. Snotlout’s face had reddened, almost like he had noticed earlier then in Valka’s healing room, only this time a small smile curved his lips. A low growl absently rumbled in the former dragon’s throat, and the fork once again fell out of his hands with a loud clatter. Frustrated, the redhead threw the fork aside and took the cooked fish in his hands instead. 

Snotlout had ended up walking back to the table only to see Redmare munching savagely at the fish in his grasp. Bits of food had fallen as the man ate and scattered into a mess around where he sat at the table. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve said the other ate like a dragon. 

For the rest of their time in the two finished eating in a tense silence. Eventually, Valka wandered towards their table offering Hookfang to stay at her residence for the night since she had the spare bed in her healing room and all of the guest homes were occupied by the visiting tribes. 

Hookfang absently agreed, his mind still filled with thoughts as he left the great hall shortly afterwards. 

It seemed like Snotlout was just fine without him. 

Perhaps he met the wish-giving dragon too late, but if that was true, he didn’t understand why she allowed his wish in the first place. 

Where did he think he was going with his ridiculous plan? 

He gave one last crestfallen glance at his—well, not  _ his _ anymore, he guessed—human before following Valka out of the great hall.

* * *

In the peak of night, a shadow spooked a pen of sheep as it crept across the sleeping village. For a moment, a claw drifted toward the frightened herd as it carefully debated of snatching one, but it quickly decided against it. The claw retracted into the night, causing the small group of sheep to sigh in relief. 

The shadow slithered soundlessly from its post near the great hall carefully crawling over one of the cluttered wooden buildings before disappearing into the nearby trees. The small grassy clearing laid just on the village’s edge. Under the pale moonlight, the shadow spread its wings, and a lone changewing took flight over the clueless Vikings and into the vast sea. 

The sound of waves below hid the loud flapping of wings as the changewing soared away from the post he had been ordered to scout the small Viking island, their chief in particular. He wasn’t very fond of the job, where he had done nothing for days but survey the group of humans, but fear disobeying was always a powerful motivator. 

The Red Knight never seemed to mention her mother’s horrific eating habits and, as if her possession of magic wasn’t intimidating enough, rumor around the small flock she ruled said she shared the same trait. No one knew for sure, of course, but at the same time, no dared to find out. 

The moon was nearly about to set by the time the changewing finally made it to the rocky island the rest of his flock inhabited. The landform was desolate, minus a few withered shrubs here and there, and rocky cliffs and valleys littered the island surrounding a dormant volcano at its center. But the Red Knight chose it for the spacious cave that was housed within it, and no one dared to complain to her about it. 

In the largest room of the cave a young teenage girl sat cross legged on a slab of stone, Unlike the hybrid form she took as she attacked the scared bunch of pathetic humans, her wings here not present, and the small bit of scales that crept across her shoulders were replaced by smooth skin. 

The girl's eyes were closed, deep in thought, and her brows here greatly furrowed for reasons unknown to the dragons that scattered the cave around her. In her right hand, she clenched around the crimson gem that hung as a necklace around her neck. 

The changewing landed a short ways from the stone with a quickened flap of wings. From the moment his claws touched the chilling stone below him, he lowered his head and bowed before her.

The clicks of dragonspeak echoed across the arched walls. “I’ve come to report, my liege.” 

Bright ruby eyes opened, and in an instant, a bright light consumed her. When the light died down, an enormous dragon over twice the size of the changewing stood in her place. The gem that was once in her hand now shimmered from between the crimson speckled ash of scales just beneath her neck. 

“Is everything going as we predicted?” 

“Y-Yes, my liege,” The changewing shifted a ways back from the enormous dragon. “I heard him speaking with an older human. He’s leaving with a small group to the place of our attack.” 

“Perfect,” her sharpened teeth bared in front of her in a way some would likely say was a grin. “As soon as they reach the spot, we attack again, this time as full force.” She began to turn her body towards another tunnel of the cave.

“B-but there one more thing I think would also interest you,” the changewing quickly added.

As he recalled a moment he witnessed very early in his scouting when the viking chieftain had been speaking with what seemed to be his mate.

The Red Knight looked turned back to the smaller dragon. “And what would that be?” 

“A few days ago he mentioned plans of taking a voyage to the ‘hidden world.’ H-he knows where the realm of dragons is.” 

It was the lack of that small piece of knowledge that had gotten the changewing and rest of the flock stuck there in the first place. They lived a long ways outside the realm, and were too far to be led with the rest as they heard the distant calls of the night fury king. They were the last few dragons that roamed over the earth, and just like the Red Knight, they could only estimate where the realm hid itself. 

The Red Knight’s attention instantly peaked. The last piece of information they needed to take her revenge against the other being that slayed her mother was right there for her taking. It was like fate to her. 

“Wait for my lead.” She demanded. “When the humans come near enough, and we’ll continue as planned.”

The other dragons swarmed near her now, and every head bowed as her orders.

“But take the chieftain alive. Unfortunately, we’ll need him alive longer than expected.” The Red Knight grimaced, but she the alteration had to happen. 

She remembered the glimpsing moments as fledgling, when a night fury and the young human on its back shot one last ball of fire. She remembered when the earth trembled beneath her feet and when fire consumed the air above as her mother fell treacherously from the sky. And after every man and dragon had finally left from the brutal scene, she remembered emerging from her place of hiding, terrified and heartbroken at her mother, who lifelessly laid among the smoldering sand. 

She remembered it all, and she  _ would _ get her revenge. She had finally grown old enough and strong enough to. No matter this change of plans, she would end them, just like they ended her mother.

She’s waited this long, what’s a few more day’s worth to her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve thought out most of the major plot points for this story, but there’s still a few minor points in between in having trouble figuring out. 
> 
> If there’s any scenes or anything you’d like to see in this fic, feel free to request them and I’ll see if I can try to incorporate it into this story. It would be very helpful, and I’m also curious as to what you, as readers, want to see here.
> 
> Next chapter is coming soon!


	6. How to (try to) Forget Your Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hookfang comes to a new realization. Meanwhile, Snotlout tries to follow through on his father's demands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the unexpected wait. I've been busy with some personal things for the past few months and had a lot of trouble trying to write this chapter. I know it might’ve been a little annoying or frustrating. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for your patience!

The feeling was so familiar to him.

With a strong gust of wind under his wings, he soared through the crystal blue sky. The air was crisp and cool against him as he inhaled, and, with a quick flap of fiery orange and red, he picked up his speed.

There was a weight on top of him, and the ruffled sound of cloth shifting against a leather saddle could only be briefly heard over the roar of wind.

“Hookfang! Slow down!” His rider shrieked.

The dragon rolled his amber colored eyes. Why would he? The weather was perfect to practice for their next dragon race between the rest of the dragon riders, and the last thing he wanted was to lose again to Barf and Belch of all dragons. 

He kept his quickened speed and swiftly maneuvered over and under the rocky structures that littered the waters around Berk. On top of him, two arms clenched tightly around his scales, followed by a few curses, but there was no serious anger to it. He knew his human was annoyed, but the Viking also had an unspoken trust in him. Snotlout would soon understand in a few days when they finally beat the hideous zippleback. 

The dragon wove through the air and carefully dodged each of the mountainous rocks that scattered themselves around the island. It wasn’t as graceful as Toothless or as thoroughly planned out as Stormfly would have done, but his wings gave just enough speed and force to push through successfully. 

Until the world suddenly began to flicker around him.

Hookfang barely completed a full lap around the island when the sky faded to nothing, and the comfortable weight of his rider on him instantly vanished. A loud scream followed below him. 

“Snotlout!” The dragon roared in dragonspeak. 

Quickly tucking his wings, Hookfang dove downwards in a panicked spiral. 

The wind was deafening against him as he descended. In the darkened light, he managed to spot the outline of the falling human just a few paces away. He tensed his wing closer to himself, attempting to catch up quicker. 

They were getting too close to the water. 

He was almost there. Hookfang stretched his neck as far as he could and finally managed to catch his rider’s tunic between his teeth. In a swift movement, he pulled Snotlout into his claws.They had fallen too close to the ocean to fly up again. Swiftly, Hookfang wrapped his wings around the Viking, desperately trying to protect him from the impact, and together, they were submerged into the icy sea. 

Another flicker. 

Everything around a now human Hookfang was a dark abyss. High overhead, the dim scene of rolling waves crashed. His rider was nowhere to be found.

Flicker. 

A familiar scene rolled in front of him in the abyss. Snotlout sat expressionless infront of his small fireplace, just like the dragon had seen when he first met the Enchantress. The Viking shivered and pulled his thin blanket closer to himself.

Hookfang wanted nothing more than to keep him warm himself. He attempted to run to him, but his body remained planted where it was, refusing to let him move closer as he struggled. 

Flicker.

The scene continued now, and Hookfang froze as he saw a silhouette of someone drift close from the nearby doorway. In the warm light of the fire, Eret son of Eret walked into view with a cup of a warm drink on one hand and a bigger blanket on the other.

“I thought you might need this,” he said softly to the other man. 

Snotlout looked up from where he sat and smiled warmly as him, his face half lit in the dim fire light. “Yeah, thanks.”

Sitting down next to him on the wooden floor, Eret handed the mug to the other and wrapped the blanket around the two of them, and together, they peacefully watched the fire.

Hookfang’s stomach twisted at the scene in front of him. _No_ , his mind yelled. That was his job. He was the one who comforted his rider and protected him. Because he...he…

Flicker.

The scene dissolved into the inky nothingness, and in its place, Toothless appeared before him. His dark scales nearly blended into the scenery. 

“You shouldn’t be here, and you know it now.” The night fury’s dragonspeak was calm, and his expression was unreadable in the low lighting. “Snotlout is fine without you. He doesn’t need you now.” His dark paws took a step closer. “Dragons are not a part of Berk anymore.” 

Flicker. 

Hookfang, now returned to his dragon form, stood along a world of fiery chaos. A haunting memory played before him, one that he had pushed as far away from his thoughts as he could, from a time of vikings against dragons. Fire versus strength and metal. 

A flaming building crumbled to the ground beside him, but he paid no mind. Instead, his eyes remained locked in the distance on the two other monstrous nightmares in front of him, Both of their bodies flamed as they struggled to lift the chain netting that had been thrown over them just moments ago. Around them, a small group of Vikings gathered near, and the assortment of weapons in each of their hands twitched in a murderous anticipation.

Out of the small crowd, the scruffy ash-covered face of a dark-haired Viking took lead. His axe glowed like a sunset from the nearby flames as we waved it above his head. “We kill the monsters where they stand.” The excuse of a man boomed to the others. 

Hookfang’s younger eyes widened, and he tried to fly to them. He had to save them; he had to! But his wing refused to expand without a wave of blinding pain. He had forgotten the series of arrows that hit his scales at the beginning of their raid. 

He raced across fallen obstacles of debris. The pain sharped in his wings but not as much as if he had taken to the air. He leaped over the crumbled remains of carved stone and under the lone framing of a human nest. The arrows embedded deeper into his scales as he brushed against the charred wood, but he ignored the increasing pain. The other two nightmares were just a little ways from him. Their familiar snouts and faces became clearer to him the closer he sprinted. 

But all efforts paused as _Her_ booming roar called in the distance. 

He wasn’t quick enough

The humans couldn’t hear it, but it echoed through the minds of all of the raiding dragons. In the distance, a gronkle was already flying back to the nest with as many sheep as her earth-colored claws could grasp, followed by a proud young zippleback clenching a whole yak. 

Hookfang could feel the order beginning to flood his thoughts. He was still fairly young, and _Her_ orders weren’t as strong as the older dragons already stretching their wings to fly away. He tried to force it down, he _needed_ to force it down.

The two monstrous nightmares were both aflame, the older of the pair began to beat against the chain netting to escape as the Vikings moved closer.

Hookfang couldn’t move. The tug was beginning to become two strong, but he couldn’t leave them. He needed to get to his family. 

He roared the loudest he could in an attempt to distract the humans, but only a few heads perked to him, the rest still focused on the two. 

“Another one?” The dark haired man leading the small group gripped his axe tighter at the roar with a hideous smirk.He turned to the rest. “Finish these off, I got this one,” his grainy voice ordered as he moved away towards Hookfang. 

The two captured dragons stared at Hookfang with wide eyes as the rest of the group raised their weapons. 

“Brother!” The smaller of the two called desperately to him in a series of clicks and roars.

Then there was sharp clang of metal.

“Redmare! My son, go back to the island and save yourself!” A motherly voice roared above the flames.

Another clang cut the roars short.

Hookfang could only watch in pure shock and terror. He was frozen. He couldn’t attack. He couldn’t flame. He couldn’t think. The world swirled around him as he surrendered to Her orders that were tearing his mind, and by nothing but pure instinct, he flew limply back to the nest before the dark haired Viking could kill him too. 

A final flicker, and the memory faded to nothingness.

“Humans bring nothing but sorrow, yet you still wear the name one gave you. You still care for it even when it no longer cares for you.”

The voice of his father, just like he last remembered it as a fledgling echoed in the abyss.

“You’re no dragon. And you’re no son of mine.”

  
  


Hookfang jolted awake. In the dim light of the crescent moon outside, his human forms’s dull excuse for claws all but ripped the blanket that laid over him in his tightening grasp. He felt the nerve racking need to light his scales aflame, to release the sudden wave of emotion he was drowning in, but his human form didn’t allow him. He quickly settled for the next thing he could think of. 

He yelled a string of the incoherent words that jumbled into roars and growls of dragonspeak. The mix of yelling and language caused his sore throat to protest, but he continued nonetheless. He couldn’t stop if he tried.

Valka bursted into the room in a panic. “What’s wrong!? Are you hurt?!” 

Hookfang could only recall two other times he had a nightmare as terrible as that—he was supposed to be feared by others, not scared himself. The first had been during his imprisonment as a teen in the Viking’s training area. It wasn’t long after his mother and brother were killed. It took him hours before he was finally calm enough to finally turn off his flames and days before he could sleep again. 

The second had been shortly after the battle with the Red Death.

Snotlout, who had only known Hookfang for no more than a few weeks, had been terrified when the dragon woke up in a panic of flames. It had taken Snotlout the rest of the night to calm him down. The human softly muttered words to him while gently running a hand accord the scales of his snout; just like the dragon would later curl his neck around the Viking and rumble comforting words softly in dragonspeak when the other had bad dreams. The man didn’t understand what Hookfang was saying, but it always seemed to calm him down as well. 

But Snotlout wasn’t here, now. 

Valka, realizing it was a nightmare that caused him to act out, wrapped her arms around him tightly, swaying him slightly in an effort to quiet him down, as she had done before with hysterical patients.

The dragon-turned-human squirmed in her grasp but was finally snapped back to the present when he felt water beginning to leak from his face. Of course, he had seen how humans cry before, something dragons couldn’t do, but actually feeling the stray tears run down his cheek reminded him of the reality of his transformation. 

Valka stepped back from him, her expression still stuck in a motherly concern. A long silence fell over them and nothing except the noises of the night outside could be heard in the moonlit room. 

“You can talk about it if you’d like.” Valka offered softly.

Hookfang paused before looking at her sharply. “He doesn’t need me,” He muttered. 

Valka brow furrowed. “And why is that?” 

The expression Snotlout had as Eret pulled him into a hug earlier that night flashed into Hookfangs mind. He tangled his fingers in his blanket. “I thought I could still protect him and be there for him, but I’m only in the way.” Snotlout was moving on without him, whether Hookfang liked it or not. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Of course you should be here.” Valka countered. “I’ve seen the way he’s looked at you. It’s something I haven’t seen in him since you and the other dragons departed. Even not as a dragon, he knows there is something special about you. He just doesn’t understand yet.” 

She paused for a moment, allowing the words to soak in, before continuing.

“But, to tell you the truth, don’t think it’s only that _he_ needs _you_ ,” she spoke carefully, “I believe you need _him_ as well. Just as much, it seems.”

Hookfang’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the words. It all suddenly clicked in his mind. She was right, he finally realized. 

He returned to Berk to protect and comfort his former rider, of course, but there was also more to his wish the Enchantwing granted.

He needed Snotlout in his life. 

* * *

_“That dragon you miss so much has already forgotten about you by now. It’s time you’ve forgotten about it too.”_

_“Don’t continue to disappoint me.”_

His father's words haunted him in his sleep, or lack thereof he should stay. He knew the man was right, though. Hookfang was gone, better off without him, and the best thing he could do now, despite how much it pained him, was to follow through on what his dad had said and try to continue on from there. 

Snotlout yawned loudly as he lazily followed the rest of the Berkian villagers into the great hall early the next morning. The night before, he made a goal from his father's demand. From now on, he had to stop thinking about dragons, a certain one in particular. 

To start, he decided to distract his mind by attending the gathering Eret had mentioned the night before about why he and the others were setting sail. 

It seemed like nearly veryone in the village was bustling into the great hall. The few who weren’t were making their way towards the ports to prepare their ships for sailing. All around him, Snoulout heard hushed voices from passing folk discussing something too quietly for him to make out. 

Whatever was going on, it was something important, Snotlout reasoned to himself, and it should be the perfect thing to take his mind off dr—he stopped himself—with what he's trying to forget. 

He followed the small crowd into the great hall.

  
  
  


A little ways away, Hookfang let out an involuntary yawn as he watched Valka leave him for a moment to discuss matters with her son. Something apparently was being spoken about today, but his mind was too busy thinking of his new realization the night before to focus on anything but. 

He _needed_ Snotlout, even if the human no longer needed him. 

Instinctively, the very thought of being anything but self-reliant caused a bitter feeling to quickly stir in his stomach, but it gradually made more sense the more he thought about it. 

Life in the hidden realm seemed so bleak in the two years he had lived there. Though he would never admit it aloud, when every other dragon seemed so at home, Hookfang had found himself drifting farther and farther into loneliness. He understood why now, but there was something else scratching the edge of his thoughts that he still couldn't quite grasp....

“Wow...you must be new,” a voice snapped Hookfang out of his thoughts. 

Hookfang turned his head only to see a face he had, two years ago, actually been relieved to never see again in the hidden realm, Ruffnut Thorston.

The female twin’s expression harvested a flirtatious dreamy look, which Hookfang had always found entertaining in the past when directed at men who subtly tried to distance themselves from her. But now that he noticed it was aimed directly at him, it was quite a different story. 

“Yeah..” The former dragon shifted weight on his feet uncomfortably, taking a step backwards, but it wasn’t enough as he placed a hand on his bicep. 

Hookfang was very close to growling out at her. He had seen her routine play out many times, some of it, at one point in their late teens, even working on Snotlout. Of course, Hookfang never really saw the appeal in her, and was annoyed at strides his human took to woo her, especially the points in sheep it cost them while dragon racing.

Ruffnut opened her mouth to saw something, but it was swiftly cut off by a voice behind Hookfang. 

“Hey Ruff, give the guy a break.”

The twin lifted her chin to glance over Hookfang’s shoulder. Her eyes widened slightly. “You’re still alive? Me and Tuffnut thought you died like a year ago.” 

Hookfang spun around to see just his former rider push himself through the enormous doorway. Dark bags laid themselves under Snotlout’s eyes, something Hookfang had quickly learned years ago marked a human who didn’t sleep well the night before. 

Snotlout moved his hand towards his mouth as he let out a long yawn. He only gave the twin halfhearted shrugs in reply. “Yeah, well, I’m alive.” 

Ruffnit grinned, instantly forgetting the redhead in front of her, and backpedaled a few paces behind her. “Tuff is gonna flip when he hears this.” 

With that, she spun around by her heels, blond locks twirling in sync, and disappeared in the neighboring crowds, causing Hookfang to sigh in relief. 

  
  
  


Snotlout didn’t know what exactly compelled him to get between Ruffnut and Redmare.

Maybe it was the annoyed and uncomfortable look on the redhead’s face. It was obvious that the guy didn’t know to react to flirting, if Ruffnut’s version of it could even be called that. It looked like the other man was probably already moments from fleeing the situation. It could’ve also been the weird sense dejaVu he was still getting around the man. Whatever it was, the grateful look on the other’s face seemed more than he really deserved. It wasn’t like he did anything really prize worthy. Maybe Redmare wasn’t even aware of his own expression at the moment. 

“Thank you.” 

“Uh, yeah.” It was all the Viking could think to blurt out, 

In the corner of his eye, Snotlout noticed his father glancing at him briefly with an unreadable expression. He gulped before he even realized it, and chose that moment to walk away from the red haired man and take a seat somewhere else nearby. 

He was unaware of the small frown from Redmare as he did.

There was a few more minutes of waiting Hiccup’s voice began to echo from across the spacious room, warning that they would begin the meeting once everyone finished settling in. 

“By now, you’ve probably heard the rumors that are spreading like wildfire across the island.” Hiccup began. “As many of you might be wondering, the rumors are true.” He stood, hesitating before speaking. “There are still more dragons roaming the archipelago.”

Scattered gasps erupted from the crowds, and muddle muttering of disbelief rumbled between them. Snotlout couldn’t believe the news as well. He must’ve had done something to have angered the gods somehow, because of course the one day he decided to try and forget—you know, something like this would be announced to the village. 

“Yes, quiet down please,” Hiccup politely tried to hush them before continuing. “Now, We don’t know exactly how many are still out there, but their leader…”

A short says from him, he could see father looking his way. The authoritative glare etched into the older man’s face as he did so said more than enough.

Whatever Hiccup was saying could not be an excuse. 

_“Don’t continue to disappoint me.”_

Snotlout could only look back with wide eyes. He wasn’t going to anger his dad anymore. He didn’t want to bear the harsh look in his eyes, or the constant sharp pains from words that hurt more than the force of his fists. He was going to stick to his orders this time. 

And to do that, he needed to leave now. 

In a single motion, he hoisted himself up, and hastily weaved through the crowds to escape the great hall. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I writing people a little ooc? I’m scared that this chapter felt a little off. If you want to, or just feel bored, let me know what you think. I really hoped you enjoyed it overall, though! :D
> 
> I can’t promise a specific time for the next chapter with school starting back up again soon, but this story isn’t forgotten. It shouldn’t take as long as it did for this chapter, though, don’t worry. I might start posting shorter chapters to get them out there faster if you’d guys like that, but I’m still thinking on it. Please bear with me. 
> 
> Until next time, stay safe and healthy! :)


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